Aurora Australis
by IckyEcchi
Summary: *Post-BD* On the cusp of adulthood Nessie is discovering that there's a lot more to the world then her family has let on. When a misunderstanding with Jacob spirals out of control will she be able to find a way to make it right? Or will it be too late?
1. Pet

"Though my soul may set in darkness

It will rise in perfect light

I have loved the stars too fondly

To be fearful of the night"

Sarah Williams, _The Old Astronomer

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Preface

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I spent the first six years of my life never once feeling that I was strange

I was born into a world where strange was so commonplace that I didn't even realize that I didn't know my definition for normal was nothing like that of most humans. I was always told I was special. I had always been adored by my whole strange extended family. And most especially by my beautiful mother. From the moment of my consciousness she was there yearning for me. My earliest memory is feeling her adoration like a cocoon around me; I wouldn't be surprised if she willed me into existence.

At least, now I wouldn't. If I had been asked before, I would probably have smiled and shown you that I had been destined. I wouldn't have called myself a princess, but that's what I was, that's how I felt even if that wasn't the word I'd have used for it. I never felt like I commanded anyone. But I did, even if I never meant to. And never anyone as much as mother.

She worshipped me the way she worshipped dad. I never thought anything of that either. It never once crossed my mind that she loved me so selflessly, so wholly, fully, and irrationally, because of him. Because I was piece of him that was fused with her, a physical embodiment of her desire to be completely one with him. A year ago, I wouldn't have even been able to fathom this statement if someone spoke it to me. I can't even imagine how I would have reacted because the idea of it was so unlike anything that existed in my little world.

I was educated to be sure. I was a voracious reader from early on, devouring libraries of poetry and literature, science and the humanities. Everyone saw to my education. Home-schooled as I was, it was like being the only child of four sets of parents, each one seeking to put themselves in my mind the way I did theirs. And I loved them all back just as fiercely. I couldn't imagine what life was like without any one of them, even though that would never happen any way, if anyone were to go, it would have been by pairs. I wouldn't have known that then either, even though it's crystal clear now.

The funny thing is I really felt like I was so aware, so in-tune with everything. To learn other wise was like having gravity suddenly stop. I had always been so sure of everything, so sure that it never occurred to me that I was sure of it. That's just how it was and I never had any cause to even think about questioning it.

I knew that certain things were never discussed in front of Grampy. It was obvious that certain conversations upset him, that communications with him were limited both in content and method. It didn't register then for me because by the time I was 18 months I realized that no one else talked with their hands the way I did.

But that hardly pointed it out as strange, I was well aware that some of us had talents that the rest didn't, that these skills were mostly unique to the individual. Without even thinking about it, I started unconsciously adapting the conversation to the person I was having it with. Before long, Jake was the only one that I talked to that way, except on the occasions that I was so excited that I had needed a way beyond words to express it.

And every once in awhile when I had to reassure mother that I adored her every single bit as much as she loved me. If I thought anything of that, it was quickly chalked up to her missing the physical connection we had once briefly shared. Though at the time, it felt like I was in there much too long, there were times that it was as painful for me as it must have been for her. Even if the memory of thirst and suffocation wasn't enough to make me cringe at the thought of it, knowing the burden of my existence then on her, on daddy, on grandma Esme and auntie Alice, on Jake…

Even thinking about thinking about it feels like I'm smashing and rending my way out of my own insides.

Because our birthdays were so close, mother and I often had a shared birthday celebration. Not that it was condensed into a single event, instead it was an extended affair, lasting from 3 days to a week depending whether there were any pressing concerns. My first birthday was the only one we didn't really share the festivities for, my parents spent that whole month so involved in each other that it seemed they would forget the existence of everyone else the moment they left the room.

I actually didn't mind that at all. I had a perfect party, all to myself, with aunts fussing over me and every detail they could cognate between them. All while I sat contentedly in Jake's arms or lap, amusing each other as we watched them squabbling over what to dress me in. I don't know why aunt Rosie even bothered pushing the wardrobe issue, Aunty Alice always won; she had even smilingly warned Rosie that she would.

My second birthday started the tradition. The whole clan of us went to grandma Esme's island. I didn't think anything of it when the porpoises only wanted to swim with me; I just thought it was part of how I was special. I didn't think anything of it when grandpa Carly decided to start teaching me about marine biology. Not until daddy reacted when grandpa was skimming over page 367. Nobody would tell me what triggered them both to go so still before daddy took off. I didn't see him or mother for the rest of the night.

As soon as they left me alone with Jake I went back to that page. At first I thought it was because daddy objected to them teaching me about mating at such a young age. Only later did I realize that it was something specific about sea louse reproduction that made him so upset. That later revelation was one of the first inklings I had that there was more to the world than the one I lived in. It's hard to look back and see how little I really knew, that for all my astounding development I really was just a naïve little girl about so many things. It's hard not to cringe at my own stupidity.

I should have known. I knew that carrying me hurt her, I knew my birth was why she turned. But with everyone showering me with affection from the first moment on, mother most of all, it was very hard to reconcile such an outpouring with how they had initially conceptualized me before seeing me.

The first time it crossed my mind I was floored. What if my gift hadn't been making people love me? What if the only reason I was cared for was because I made them do it? What if my talent had been pyrokinesis, how would they feel about me then? Even though I wrote off daddy's reaction to his obvious discomfort with the idea of my sexuality, there was a look in his eye as he fled wildly out the door that disturbed me so much that I filed it away anyway.

Only a few years later when I pulled that memory from its drawer and examined it in the new light of my understanding did his horror make sense. Only then did I start to really question my existence and its purpose. Only then did I feel like an abomination.

I've always remembered the day the Volturi came, I've always remembered everything. As long as I've existed, I've been aware in some form or another. But my memory reflected how I thought back then. My recollection of the event was always through the old filter, painting a tenacious picture of my loved ones trying to save our family from an obvious misunderstanding, of a greedy Aro willing to lie and kill in order to possess that which wasn't his.

I never used to wonder if that could have been avoided if I hadn't been born, if Irina would have just come and made peace and lived to find her true mate. It was these thoughts that were my first secrets from anyone. I knew even talking about such things would only bring more suffering to my wonderful family. I tried to talk to Jake about it once and the horrified look on his face haunts me to this day. For three solid hours he held to me so tight I could feel his veins pulsing in time to his heart as he clung and rocked me like daddy rocked mother when grandma Nene drowned in a storm surge that flooded the St. John's River.

Mother never forgave herself or Phil for that, even though it wasn't either of their faults. She always blamed herself for things but this was so much worse. A little of her died that day and I could always tell that it took a piece of daddy with it.

I've tried being objective about this, tried to keep in my mind that this might just be a trait I inherited from her, an all-consuming need to protect those I care about at my own expense, to feel overly guilty for causing even the slightest bit of suffering to them. But I know the pain I caused is a fact, that her pregnancy killed her physically and it killed daddy and Jake emotionally.

And it kills me to know that. Even more than it kills me to know about Jake and my mother.

As much as it pains me to think about it, I can't help but wonder if Jake's devotion to me is just a misplacement of his love for mother, just like I wonder if my parents love for me isn't just a facet of their adoration of each other. Just like I wonder if grandma Esme and my aunties love for me is just redirection of the love of the children they can't have. It sickens me that I even have these thoughts but ever since I learned about all these things they just keep gravitating into big balls of doubt and subsequent shame in my head and reinforce that one central theme, how could anyone really love something as monstrously self-serving as myself.

And yet, there's no way I could ever deserve this level of adulation, not when I've caused so much trouble and heartache for such amazing people. I puzzle it over and over in my head and the only conclusion I can ever reach is that my power to make people care for me is the cause of their devotion. A supernatural defense mechanism designed to promote my life and well-being at whatever the cost of others. Like I'm nothing more than a parasite that's learned to talk.

I know that's what Leah thinks of me, I heard it myself, heard her call me his little leech. I certainly never meant to. Jake and I were lying watching the sky, on our backs with our heads together looking for shooting stars. He was all wolfy, like he always was when it was just the two of us, like he didn't have that half-second to spare on phasing in case something happened. Like most things, I never paid attention to it at the time, just accepted it as something that simply was.

I've wasted a lot of time not questioning things.

I didn't realize that I could hear his thoughts when our heads were touching, though I had noticed that I could talk to him this way. I'd like to think that it was just because I was so used to projecting my thoughts at others that I simply didn't know to listen, rather than think it was because my self-absorption kept me from noticing his voice in my head. I had never given my father's talent a second thought and even if I had, this type of communication only worked with Jake anyway. I just hadn't noticed until that night and only then because I heard Leah.

If I hadn't felt her teasing disgust, so different from Jake's thoughts but a part of them at the same time. Like falling asleep with the television on and waking to the sound of the commercial break.

I sat up quickly, looking around for her, slightly miffed by the casual familiarity in her tone. This panicked Jake of course. He popped up coiled and frantic before I had a chance to call Leah out into the open. His terror gave me pause, hadn't he heard her too? And in that moment it clicked into place.

Of course he had heard her; I had only heard her because he had.

His ignoring her chatter was second nature at that point, like scanning a foreign radio frequency and only picking out certain keywords. I was the one overreacting and ruining the quiet. I immediately felt guilty for startling him out of his peaceful reverie. Ever since I had begun puberty, we barely got any time alone.

Daddy may have considered Jake family but there were certain things he'd never get used to. More so than the standard 'daddy's little girl' virginal thing, I think he was motivated by fear of the possibility of me ending up like mother, of having to live that again. Maybe it didn't even have anything to do with me, maybe it was just the rehashing of losing her.

I tried to settle back in but he was too on edge after that, even after I tried smoothing it over. That was the first time I lied to him, and at the time I didn't even think twice about, it just came out as I tried to soothe him. Just a little white lie about nothing. I told him it was nothing. In all honesty it should have been nothing. But the judgment in her voice had started something in motion in my brain.

In retrospect, I'm glad that he took me home then. Too spooked to sit still, he dropped me off to go run patrol around the house. I was mad at the time; mad at myself for missing a chance to hear what she was saying about me, mad at missing a chance to be with him, mad at Leah for being with him in the night while I sat there regretting. I wasn't mad at him though, his loyalty was unquestionable.

Sometimes I wonder if Jake's even really imprinted on me at all, if it's just a wolfy reaction born of desperation and the influence of my talent. I feel even guiltier for doubting my Jake when I've seen his devotion, felt it. But that treacherous thought creeps in more and more often these days. The more cracks that appear in the veneer of my world, the more I mistrusted the rest of the structure, its foundation.

But, regardless of the source or cause, there is no denying the love there. The only qualms I've ever had about that are strictly in relation to mother. Even so, I was jealous of Leah. She was intimate with the terrain of his mind, she could enter him at will from across great distances. She had been a resident of his inner space since before I was born. I worried myself to the point of exhaustion that night and awoke feeling like I was somewhere else.

From the next morning on, everything looked different, like I had been looking through a dirty windshield all my life but hadn't realized it until Leah had written 'Wash Me' in the grime.

That first shift was jarring, but after that things slid into place easily, fluidly, logically progressing from that first set of realizations until the walls of my mental doll house came crashing down and I realized that my perfect little life was a lie.


	2. Perfect Day

**A/N:** This chapter is dedicated to my very first reviewer, **razzle. **I was unsure whether or not to continue this story and probably wouldn't have without her encouragement.

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I dreamt of him that night.

I'm not sure that I was even in most of the dream. I was watching him and Leah in the forest; they were talking as if I wasn't there but my perspective of them was close up, as if I was standing in front of them. They were hominid and speaking as though they were catching up with each other, like they hadn't seen each other in a while. But then as they spoke, I saw them as being further and further away. Eventually viewing them as if through the crowds of trees and their voices were clear but distant. As I realized that the little meadow they were standing in was within a large wooded area they turned and looked directly at my viewpoint, cocking their heads in unison.

They changed simultaneously, their fur blossoming and flowing across them like wildfire eating their skin. When their eyes flamed they charged at me snarling and growling. A deep primal fear sparked in me.

I sprung away from the tree like a tumbler and when I hit the ground running I was on all fours. As scary as it was, it was also exhilarating. I've never felt so powerful or strong. Or free. Bounding through the green forest, slinging myself across the ground with sleek muscles bunching and springing with perfect control, was like no book could have ever justified. As I rocketed up the nearest tree when Leah snapped at my heels there were moments of weightlessness that almost felt like flying.

I didn't stop when I reached the highest branch, instead flinging myself to the next spruce. As my bounds grew farther and faster, their howling voices faded away in the distance and were replaced with the vibrant sounds of insects and frogs as the deciduous forest gave way to a jungle wet with life. At first it was amazing, lush and colorful, but then the shadows grew until they darkened everything out. As I stared into its depths, it felt as if it started to stare back into me.

I awoke with a start, heart racing and skin flushed warm. Once my breathing calmed I showered and dressed taking my time. With a long day of studying ahead of me, I wasn't overly eager to rush. Even if I knew that it would be worth it in the end. This self-imposed sentence was meant to be bargaining fodder.

There was going to be a party on First Beach this weekend for Seth. He was starting college this fall and it was sort of a congratulations/farewell. He wasn't going far; Seattle isn't nearly as far as Embry went. Seth will still be close enough to visit every weekend but it's still not going to be the same, not at all. I've always been fond of Seth and probably more importantly, he's always been fond of me and my family. With his innocent charm he's acted somewhat like an intermediary between Sam's pack and my family and, at times, like a mediator between Leah and me. We don't actually fight or argue as much as she is just rather brusque when talking to me. It's a shame because up until last night I had really sympathized with her. Being the lone female in a group like that had to be brutal enough on its own even without the added ex-boyfriend factor. Even though I've never been on a date I can imagine that the pain she felt must have been suffocating.

Mother had a cheese and veggie omelet with toast waiting for me when I sat down with my books at the table. The sight made me instantly cheery; all my meals have meat unless taken with blood. And sure enough, there was a warmed glass in her hand when she turned to greet me. I smiled and kissed her on the cheek before taking it from her.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

She's the only person in my life that doesn't call me Nessie or Ness or some affectionate variation. Even Grampy refers to me as Nestle. Up until the day grandma died I was always Renesemee to mother. Now it's always something like cutie or baby or some other saccharine epithet that mirrors the nicknames that dad always calls her. She still calls him Edward though, always in the same way. I know when she's going to address him half a second before she says anything because the only time she ever remembers to breathe is when she sighs his name. At least in my presence, I have suspicions that it's very different when they're alone but I really don't want to know.

She eyed my books and smiled. "My little girl is so disciplined about her studies. You must get it from your father." Sighing dreamily she turned and began washing the dishes.

I downed my drink in a handful of gulps and then opened my chemistry text beside my plate. I tried to focus on adding electrons as I poked at my food but I kept drifting to rainbows of leaves, rich soil, and an unnaturally clear stream running through it.

Mulling over my dream provoked an intense bout of cabin fever. It strengthened my resolve to earn my freedom for Friday night. If I could finish all of next week's work with this week's, there was no logical way they could deny me. Even so, I couldn't help but think that daddy might try to anyway.

As much as I've hung out with everyone in La Push, this would be my first gathering there without my family in attendance. Jake and his friends may be young adults but they're adults nonetheless. Too old for chaperoned parties; Sam and Emily aren't even going to be there. Better yet, there are going to be other Quileute there; some of Seth's friends from his job. This, therefore, meant that Jake was going as Jake, not as pack leader. Flesh, not fur, a revelation that made me feel something akin to queasiness and I yanked my mind away from it. With renewed vigor, I apply myself to the neglected book in front of me. I didn't even hear mother turn off the water and float out of the kitchen.

It was late afternoon before I pulled my head up. I didn't even realize how late it was until dad came in to say goodbye. The steady drizzle had kept the sun's passage out of sight since the morning.

"I didn't want to disrupt your studying," he embraced me as I stood to greet him, "but I haven't seen you all day and I won't be back for awhile."

"I lost track of time." I yawned. He gave me a lopsided smile and tousled my hair.

"Take a break every once in awhile, I doubt you're that far behind." He paused thoughtfully. "You're ahead?"

"It's not that bad once you get the hang of it." I steered the conversation and my thoughts away from his inquiry, "The hard part was memorizing the maximum numbers of each level and how to cross add. It's almost kind of fun when it's easy. Like this problem right here." I picked up my notebook and pointed at the last problem on the page.

"You see here-"

"That's great, Nessie," he kissed the top of my head, "but I do have to run. I can hear Jasper getting impatient." And with a casual wave he strode into the next room.

I started twisting and bending my kinked back, trying to concentrate explicitly on stretching so that he wouldn't hear me congratulating myself on deterring him. Whispers wafted in and I knew he must be talking to mother anyway. The door shut and I pictured her standing at the window, watching him leave with her heart in her eyes. I decided that I had done more than enough studying for one day.

I cleared the table and took my dishes to the sink. But, as I stood there trying to scrape off the melted Swiss cheese without ruining the china's finish, my mind drifted back to the line of thought I had been suppressing all day. Jake's face swam in my mind, shifting back and forth like the tide.

"Mother?"

"Yes, darling?" She turned and smiled gently at me as I entered the den.

I hesitated a moment before reminding myself that dad and Uncle Jass had just left for Seattle and wouldn't be back for a couple hours, even as fast as daddy drives. They were off to see Mr. Jenks. Daddy had been very insistent about meeting him since mother had recounted their last encounter.

Usually mother, in an effort to spare poor Mr. Jenks from Uncle Jass's war-face, was the one who would make the biannual trip to update my passport birthdate. They always liked to have a recent looking one on hand just in case. But in order to keep Mr. Jenks from becoming too suspicious of what's really going on, mother affixes the photos herself when she brings the documents home. Unfortunately for Mr. Jenks, he had misinterpreted mother's unusual behaviors as being something else and had put his hand on her thigh during their lunch meeting last spring.

I'm fairly sure that mother wouldn't have asked Jass to go for her if she had known dad was spying on him from the piano in the other room. She had obviously assumed that daddy was too wrapped up in the Toccata and Fugue to be paying attention to them.

"Why's that, love?" He whispered in her ear as the last note echoed in his wake.

Startled, she stammered that she just didn't feel comfortable anymore and that had been all it took for daddy's imagination to go wild. To stop him from exaggerating the incident in his mind, she told him exactly what had happened with the most innocent interpretation she could give it. Her continuing to talk about it had only made things worse of course.

I love my mother dearly but even when I'm one hundred I'm sure I still won't understand how she thinks. No wonder dad could never figure her out. She's so smart about some things and so oblivious about others. Like thinking that dad would ever not be paying attention to her. Or her believing that telling dad about some guy touching her was going to calm him down. Or her worrying that Mr. Jenks life was endangered on this particular trip; we need him alive until I'm fully matured at least.

Guilt flashes across her face and I know she was mulling over Mr. Jenks fate just now when I interrupted her. I blurt my question as an impulse to distract her overrides my hesitancy.

"How exactly did Kate teach you to use your power?"

A moment of surprise flitted at her eyes before she beamed at me. My thought process appears to be just as puzzling to her as hers is to me but she's already forgotten about baring the emotional weight of Mr. Jenks' mistake.

"Are you asking for the story again or are you interested in learning?" The idea of a mother-daughter activity was obviously just what she needed. Having a positive emotion to focus on brightened her face more than sunlight refracting off of her ever could. And, aside from dad, my happiness is the most important thing in the world to her.

Relieved by her abrupt mood change, I grinned broadly back at her and told her the latter. Lovingly, she took my hand and guided us over to the divan that auntie Alice and grandma Esme gave us for Christmas. When we went to Paris last year, supposedly they had been strolling along Rue Oberkampf when Auntie froze dead in her tracks, turned to the window of the boutique they were in front of and declared that she had just had a vision about the display sofa sitting in our living room. They sent me and Jake to make the arrangements the following day; France was much too sunny for anyone else to do more than enjoy the nightlife. Sometimes I wonder if she really has visions about all the things she claims to or if she just says so to get her way without argument. Judging by the way she giggled and shooed me off when I asked her, it's probably happened at least once. It was an absurd amount of money shipping the couch here but that analysis is retrospect on my part. At the time it seemed as perfectly natural to me as it did to most of the family and I had chalked up mother's exasperated sigh to her strange thoughts.

"Well since your gift is physical in nature, we should probably start with that." She smiled at me encouragingly, "Place both your hands on my face and show me something."

Wanting to keep the levity of the situation going, I complied and picked a memory of Grampy's attempt at making Sue Clearwater's Monday Night Football Meatloaf. Apparently he had done a passable job when Sue held his hand through it but his decision to try doing it alone was a bit premature to say the least.

It had been the four of us dining in Grampy's kitchen that evening; another of the changes brought on by grandma's passing was the adoption of 'Charlie Night.' Every Saturday, the three of us would join him for a family dinner together over at his house. Up until that night, mother always did the cooking with either dad or me assisting her. But at that point Grampy and Sue had been dating for a couple weeks and he was planning on learning to cook it so he could make her a surprise dinner for their one month anniversary. Unfortunately for dad, Charlie Night presented itself as a perfect opportunity to experiment on a captive audience.

Grampy's fond of daddy, but not overly so, even I can plainly see that. So dad is always going out of his way to behave perfectly when we're over there. Grampy's Meatwad of Pain stretched poor daddy's acting abilities to their very limit though and I'm sure if I hadn't immediately launched into a relation of how fascinating I found Tesla's autobiography, dad would have spit up right across the table. With my interference mother had the second of Grampy's distraction that she needed to get the napkin in front of dad's mouth before it was too late. Ever since what daddy has dubbed 'the homicide attempt,' he will not set foot in that house unless we bring a pre-prepared meal over with us.

"Good," she chuckled, "Now familiarize yourself with the feeling of using your power. Try focusing on the sensation of your thoughts traveling through you and into me. Visualize it if you can. No. When you did that I saw it too." She paused to consider something.

"Ok, focus on the memory again and stick to trying to sense it physically. Good," she nodded more to herself then me. "Now really concentrate on it until it feels natural to do so."

I pulled out a still image of dad's face trying not to gag and tried to ignore her giggling. Squinting my eyes with effort, I concentrated on it until I saw him instead of her.

"I think I've got it."

"Now," she smiled encouragingly, "very slowly, lift your fingers just a fraction off my skin and try to push the picture through that space."

Furrowing my brow I pulled my hands back enough so that they hovered just out of contact. I tried to push. At first I started slow, but to no avail. Then I tried visualizing the pathway again. After more than 20 minutes of nothing I started trying to physically force it from my fingertips, clenching the muscles against my bones until they trembled.

That's when she reached up and took my hands. "It's okay, honey," she said softly as she enfolded our hands on her lap, "it takes practice."

"How long did it take you?"

"That's different," she sighed, "I had a very rough time with it at first too. Without the motivation of protecting my loved ones, it would have taken longer than we had." Her face withdrew slightly and her voice drifted. "It wasn't until they started using their powers on your father that I started to get the hang of it."

Solemnly I nodded, not liking where the conversation was taking her emotionally. As her gaze turned more introspective, I was only too happy when my stomach chose to rumble and break the mood. Her full attention came back to me and she rose and pulled me towards the kitchen.

I sat at the counter while she started pulling things out of the fridge and pantries. With the frying pan preheating she grabbed a mixing bowl and plopped in some ground chuck, cracked an egg on it and shook in some seasoning. She hand-kneaded the mixture until it had a good consistency and then rolled it into a ball before flattening it between her palms.

It started sizzling as soon it hit the pan. Then she washed her hands before taking a smaller lump and shaping it into a second plain patty.

I have theories about why mother regularly eats human food, not that I'd ever ask her the real reason. I figure it's either because she misses being human, a thought which gives me a twinge of guilt but would put dad into über-brood mode for at least a few months, or because she wants to put the humans in her presence more at ease. She only eats with me or on Charlie Night; I've never caught her doing it on her own. But, as much as she puzzles me on a regular basis, I would never make assumptions about her motivations.

The pan spits loudly as she drops in the unseasoned burger. She presses it down with a spatula, quickly flips and presses it again before carefully scooping it onto a plate. I watch the blood pool beneath it in the absence of any absorbent starches as she turns my burger over. While it cooks she washes some crisp romaine and toasts a bun as the meat crackles fragrantly. When it's done, she serves me before grabbing some silverware and sitting beside me. Mother eats hers with a knife and fork. It's so barely seared that cracks of red are visible along its grey exterior. I divert my eyes from her, trying not to be rude by staring at her food. My preference for human blood and distaste for hunting notwithstanding, her dinner smells enough of a fresh kill that it still rivets my attention, unwillingly though it may be.

She keeps up an intermittent string of soft questions between her dainty bites. I grip my food firmly in one hand and try to remember to swallow before answering. Mostly she asks about the packs and their families. My replies are short but I try not to sound terse as I answer the questions exactly with absolutely no elaboration.

Despite the current pact and my friendships with the Quileute, there are some lingering reservations. Jake doesn't care but Sam (and possibly others) still doesn't want my family more involved with pack business then strictly necessary and I try to respect that. Of course, I know that mother means absolutely no harm and is certainly the least likely of the family to ever be a threat, but it's her presence that garners the most sidelong glances when we're all in La Push. So even under normal circumstances I feel weird talking with her about the Quileute, particularly Jacob.

Often times I won't even use his name with her, instead using generic masculine pronouns, like He or Him. I'm sure she notices that at least because she's skirting around his name right now. Hopefully she isn't connecting my reticence to my desire to sharpen my power. I know I shouldn't read too much into her queries. There just aren't many options available to her for making small talk with me; I'm home-schooled so she can't ask me about classes or teachers or dances. Or friends, the Quileute are the only non-family members that even know I exist for now.

Since my growth rate has been steadily slowing for some time now I know I'll be allowed to start venturing into public soon. Auntie Alice has already started hinting about wanting to take me to the mall. It's only a matter of time before she starts pressuring them about a shopping trip. I can't help but wonder what the wait is for, soon enough we'll have to relocate for appearance sake anyways.

Uncle Em is the only 'kid' that can pass for over 25. Auntie Alice got carded when we went to buy a bottle of champagne this past February when Luke was born. She handled it rather skillfully, tittering like it was a welcome and flattering compliment and the clerk was making goo-goo eyes at her by the time we walked out the door. If there hadn't been a line waiting, he probably would have tried to carry her purchase to the car for her. He's lucky Uncle Jass doesn't have daddy's gift instead. As adamant as Uncle is about self-control, there's a definite undercurrent of menace to all those scars he bares and the stillness of his expressions when he's mad. He must have had a very different life before he joined our family.

Not that I fear him at all. Whether due to his power or not, I've always felt very comfortable in his presence.

There's a rap on the front door and from the syncopated rhythm I can tell its Jake. I'm in my bathroom before mother can let him in; I hadn't brushed my teeth since the morning and he'll tease me mercilessly if I give him any ammo. She hums to herself pretending not to notice my flight but her voice is loud as she greets him, as if she's announcing him for me.

As I approach I hear her asking him all the questions she just asked me, either to make conversation or tease out more detailed answers. She's just gotten to Seth and I enter the room in time to hear Jake spilling the beans about the party. Eyes twinkling, mother throws me a glance over her shoulder.

"That sounds like it's going to be a lot of fun. And you deserve a break, baby. " Her smile is radiant and I'm beyond relieved. There was absolutely no way now that dad can stop me. Mother would fight the battle for me if need be.

I matched her smile before greeting Jake by playfully punching him in the bicep. "What's up, dawg?"

"Hey," he grinned before putting on his pseudo-stern countenance. "You've been watching MTV again," he scolded in a sitcom principal voice.

"Internet radio," I correct him cheekily, "Besides, it's not like there's much to do with my downtime besides the computer or TV."

"Well," he smiles sheepishly, "I did bring a movie."

"Oh?"

"Nice and bloody, just like you like them." He waggled his eyebrows and I knew he was making a vampire reference. I took the DVD from him and whacked his shoulder with the case before loading the disc into the machine.

Mother and I sat on either side of Jake, her leaning on an armrest and me leaning slightly against him, just enough to share his warmth. Jake stayed mostly upright between us, his massive frame slouched slightly so his giant arms could drape over the back of the couch. It was a gory and low budget affair. There were parts were mother cringed visibly and I tried not to laugh at the irony of her squeamish tendencies.

About half way through the film Jake stopped trying to take it seriously and started talking over the actor's cheesy dialogue with his own. He even did his best whiny girl imitation for the badly attired damsel in distress that had me in stitches. When the stupid girl ran into the dilapidated warehouse to hide instead of running to the car, _where she left the cell phone_, I couldn't help but start adding my own sarcastic color commentary to Jake's voiceover. This only riled him up further and he got more and more ridiculous with mother's laughter egging us on. It was hilarious, but by the time the movie ended the conversation was about what other work the lead actress was better suited for, like reaction shots in infomercials or daytime soaps, rather than the brutally graphic nature of her character's demise.

Jake and I were still reciting breathy, melodramatic monologues at each other when daddy walked in.

Mother hopped up and kissed him quickly, explaining that Jake's profession of passionate monkey love for me was just us joking around. There were tears of mirth on my face and dad couldn't deny that it was obviously in jest though his tone was a bit formal when he greeted Jake.

Taking this as a cue, Jake bid me goodnight and left through the still open door. Mother's face collapsed back into her previous worries of the evening and there was a solemnity to dad's manner that did nothing to dissuade them. The way he was looking at her hinted that he wanted to discuss something in private so I excused myself to get ready for bed.

I tried reading a novel for a bit but fell asleep to wisps of their quiet conversation and the memory of Jake's shining eyes and rumbling baritone laughter.


	3. Weak and Powerless

**A/N:** Many thanks to **razzle **and** With a K **for feeding my muse some positive reinforcement. It's much more cooperative when it's not hungry and that gets the chapter done quicker. The inference to speed up the romance particularly inspired it but probably not in the way you meant to. - insert moustache-twirling villain with shifty eyes and an evil laugh -

* * *

I don't have to hear Jake's thoughts to know that despite his flippant façade he's likely dwelling on Seth's imminent departure. With just the two of us in the car the topic weighs in the air like an invisible elephant. I want to bring it up so I can comfort him but for the life of me I don't know how to do so without saying anything to make it worse. This is their last night to hang out for awhile and I didn't want to dredge up any negativity to hang over the festivities. Seth was leaving early to settle in to an apartment he was renting with the money he'd saved up by working for the past few years. Embry had gotten him the job.

Oceanside Resort is a sprawling property in La Push, a collection of 70 beachfront cabins rimmed by the expansive Olympic forest. It's tribe owned and operated and on top of the excellent fishing, they offer wildlife tours and teach tourists to make traditional handicrafts.

Seth started there the summer before his senior year, working at the kayak rental booth. Embry had been there for a several months already and was on rotation doing mostly maintenance and repairs. The pay was nothing spectacular but there were fish fries and buffets for the guests almost every night and the employees got to eat their fill for free. To call it a perk in their estimation would be an epic understatement. Jake snuck over there for supper on more occasions than I can count.

It was great for awhile, they all were having tremendous fun; months of food, sun, and male bonding free from any looming threats. Even once school started again and Seth cut back his hours, Quil and Jake still hung out there almost every weekend, harassing Seth and Embry on the job. They were particularly obnoxious when Seth's first promotion was to take over instructing the basket-weaving class. Leah had been bringing him lunch from Sue one afternoon and let it slip in front of the rental manager that their mother had taught them the skill when they were younger.

"I haven't done it in years," he protested, "I don't even remember how!"

"Those who can't," she smirked, "teach."

They gave him a trial run and his baskets looked like ratty nets but his gregariousness made him a guest favorite. By late fall they had him leading the trips to James Island and when spring started he was put in charge of the whale watching tours. Shortly after that, it happened. Rather, she happened, Elizabeth Nukilik.

One unseasonable warm weekend in March she arrived from Metlakatla with a batch of her girlfriends for a Spring Break surfing trip. The population of Annette Islands Reserve is composed of mostly Tsimshian but, as it is the only native-held land in Alaska, several tribes make their homes there.

According to Seth, he and Embry were pulling litter duty out on Second Beach when four teens in bikinis came whooping out of the surf, splashing and play-fighting like some sorority movie cliché. And that was it. Before Seth could comment on which one had the nicest whatever, Embry was long gone, already introducing himself to the ladies as their own personal attendant, leaving Seth to finish garbage detail by himself.

The revulsion in Seth's voice when he told me was profound. Not that he disliked Elizabeth, she was hard not to like. I never met her but she answered Embry's cell once when I called looking for Jake. She was sweet and engaging; we ended up chatting for close to 15 minutes before Embry took the phone from her complaining that I was monopolizing their alone time and hung up on me. By hints I picked up in later conversations with Seth, I'm certain it was the imprinting aspect that left the foul taste in his mouth. I can tell he dreads the idea of it happening to him by the face he makes whenever the subject of relationships comes up.

After eight short days of knowing each other, Embry packed up his things, quit his job, and took off with Liz. It happened so fast, he announced his decision the night before he left. There wasn't even time for a real goodbye. He promised to stay in contact, reminding us that Elizabeth was already in her junior year of high school and that they would probably move back as soon as they were married. But that was back then and they still aren't even engaged. She lives with her parents and he works for them. He misses everyone, but Quil says he's never heard Embry sound as happy as he does now.

I tried not to sigh aloud. That brought me back to why I was worried about not addressing the issue. When Embry left it was visibly hard on Jake. He was stoic and withdrawn often and I tried to give him as much space as I could once I realized that talking about it only made his reaction worse. He was like that for almost a month after Embry moved away. And then one day I awoke to the sound of him laughing; joking with mother over a rasher of bacon, half a dozen eggs, and a syrupy short stack.

That was two years ago and we still haven't spoken about it. Every time Embry calls, Jake tells me that he said hello but that's the only time I ever hear him say that name.

Jake was my inspiration for taking up psychology. I want my best friend back but I don't know how. I hate that there's this silence forming between us. I used to feel like he was an extension of me and now he's so discrete. It's like being emotionally paraplegic.

What I dislike most though is how needy I've become. It's so selfish for me to be acting like this is all about me. But it hurts so much sometimes that I can't think of anything else.

In particular I try never to dwell on it when I'm with him. He's dealing with it the best he can and if happy distractions are what he needs then I would never deny him that. If he doesn't want my shoulder to lean on then I'm certainly not going to force it down his throat.

Mostly the psychology is for my benefit, to manage all these weird feelings that have been cropping up as I try to keep from blowing everything out of proportion. Maybe I'm projecting too much and Jake is fine. Maybe I'm just overemphasizing my empathy because the thought of being cut off from a loved one is excruciating for me to even contemplate.

After all, he is a guy. This really might not be all that big a deal to him. He hasn't even alluded to it, not a blip on the radar. This however only makes me paranoid that I must really be losing it to be reading so much into what are nothing more than random coincidences of mannerism. Both scenarios are equally probable and I always end up debating myself in circles before I tire and drop it.

I pulled myself back to his face and was drawn in easily by the rich bass in his voice. He was reclined in the blue and white vinyl seat, left elbow jutting out the window, right hand on the gear shift.

This car had been present from me, by way of my family, for his 21st birthday. A 1958 Ford Thunderbird Coupe with the original transmission, a hard top, and a deep sky blue paint job. Embry had been gone close to four months at the time and Jake's attempt at normalcy still seemed to strain at the edges. I wanted to do something special for him. Something big enough to get an emotional reaction out of him, I wanted something to remind him that he still had me.

The gesture didn't work as well as I had hoped at first. He was expressly grateful but not particularly excited. I knew he favored newer faster cars but all the gear heads I had ever read about always had a thing for classics. At the very least, I wanted a car he could work on, a project to fuel him.

And I'm fairly sure the symbolism behind my choice was lost on him. It wasn't until the next day, after he had taken it home and shown it to Billy, that he greeted me with a tight hug and murmured thanks in my hair.

It was an amazing hug, the only time he ever held me like that but I can still remember exactly how it felt as if he burned the impression of it into my very marrow. It wasn't our first embrace, but none of the others have ever been like that. At one point I was up off the ground and he seemed to be trying to meld our torsos together with his heat and strength alone. I could feel my heart tuning itself to the rhythm of his breath tingling across my scalp, even as it felt like the beating organ was dislodging itself to float somewhere in the space where our bodies met. Just as I was beginning to feel as if my chest was about to start flowing into his, like two nuclei sharing the same electrons, he abruptly dislodged my arms and set my feet back on the ground.

There was hint of embarrassment to the way he held his hands as he rambled about how thoughtful I was but I was so distracted with the rush of the brief contact that it wasn't until later in bed that night when it occurred to me that he regretted his actions. And it was close to a year after that when I first understood that he probably had been unnerved by my reaction and didn't want to string me along.

And I totally understand. We're family; he's the only brother that mother could give me, fiercely protective but disgusting and annoying at times too. I suppose that I fill the bratty little sister niche for him as well. I rather view it in that context than conceptualize it as him guarding my life to make up for not saving mother's. It's much easier to accept that his love is platonic if I'm the reason behind it and not her. How awful would I be if I tried to blame my problem on mother like that? I can hardly stand my emotional treachery as it is.

And even if that weren't the case, there's a 17 year age gap to consider. What kind of a person could think romantically about someone whose nappies they changed? Quil flat out refused to ever have anything to do with Claire's, foisting her off on Emily or whoever the closest female was at the time of necessity. There was an afternoon shortly after we returned from Brazil that the four of us were at Jake's and Embry tried to get me to do it. Jake whacked the thought out of him before he could finish the sentence but the main point had been made. Fortunately for Quil, Rachel and Paul showed up a few minutes later because neither Billy nor Jake was inclined to help him out.

I often find myself comparing Jake and I to Qwil and Clary, if only because their imprinting is the only one that even slightly resembles ours. The differences are subtle but telling. Quil's decisions about her all revolve around their having a future together. My time with Jake is always expressly in the present, no reference to the past or the future. A bubble disconnected from reality as if our entire relationship only exists within a single moment.

I have to make do with secondary or even tertiary information, I could never ask anyone directly about it, not even Emily as kind and confidence inspiring as she is. I was so excited when grandpa Carly gave me my new science texts last month. I'd just started biology lessons and I was thumbing through the index one sleepless night and almost fell right out of my bed when I saw "Imprinting pgs. 245-247."

The initial rush of excited hopefulness was extinguished almost immediately when I flipped to the passage. When I read that the imprinting in birds (and primates) is way of bonding caretaker to newborn, of siblings to each other, that it was an instinct to attune their senses to their family _so they could be cared for more efficiently and not mistake relatives for potential future mates_, I cried. Just a little. Just a few stray tears trickled out. I didn't curl into the covers and sob until breathless. A big part of me wanted to. But I knew it was self-indulgent to do so. I already knew Jake didn't harbor any amorous feelings for me. It was just the finality of reading Lorenz's words that made me admit that I had still been unreasonably harboring a small glimmer of hope that things would change once I was grown up. But as soon as I processed the new information, it just made too much sense to ignore. It explained us so perfectly, he was my caretaker, my kin, and he had always acted explicitly as so. It was my absence of imprinting instinct that was confusing me, making me try to see things that weren't there.

The one thing that kept throwing me was that all the other adult imprinted pairs were couples. Obviously Lorenz hadn't studied shape-shifter habits so there was the strong possibility that the Quileute trait was different than that of other mammals. Or perhaps it is like Billy thinks, that it's about breeding stronger wolves. But then why wouldn't Jake love me then? Why is it so different for the two of us?

I can't help but note that I'm the only imprintee that isn't of indigenous blood; that I'm the only one that has the power to instantly endear herself to people. Which is why I'm starting to believe that I'm not an imprintee at all; that Jake just hasn't found his real one yet.

I try to convince myself that I should be grateful for that. All too soon my family will have to leave Forks and just losing another friend should be much easier for Jake to deal with than separation from a mate would be.

I'm caught off guard as he turns to me, eyes sparking and mouth joyous. I know he just said something funny and I missed it. He's probably looking to see why I'm not laughing along with him. Smiling shyly, I nod and place my hand over his, trying to play it off like I heard him. His brows draw together and he gently but firmly takes my wrist and guides the offending appendage back to my lap. I make a big show of using it to smooth an invisible wrinkle out of the hunter green crushed velvet dress that auntie Alice insisted was perfect for my coloring, desperately trying to project nonchalance to his continued unease with even the tiniest physical contact.

It was meant to be friendly gesture, can't friends touch?

But I should have known it would freak him out, I'm usually careful not to initiate any overt contact too often. I've barely shown him my thoughts since he started holding himself away. No wonder I'm having trouble improving my power, it's probably weak from disuse. I miss the tactile pleasure of him and find myself making clandestine attempts to feel him, like sitting too close or brushing against him as I move. This blatant move was just too bold to be played off in the casual platonic way I'd hoped.

Jake's rejections, however slight, always make me feel cold and small, vulnerable and helpless. I hate that I did this to our friendship. I've given up on trying to take it forward, I just want it back to the way it was.

His companionship and loyalty are more than I deserve from him but there are times when I still can't help wanting more. I have to admit that the embrace did trigger a little crush in me and it wasn't until I discovered popular television that I was able to reinterpret his discomfort from an adult perspective. But I put that behind me as soon as I realized that it was a source of distress to him. It was after that encounter that he started changing before meeting up with me and I'm embarrassed that it took me a whole year to grow out of the childish fantasies that I had been entertaining enough to notice that.

He's still my best friend and closest confidant. Even if we care for each other in different ways, his pain is my pain. I wish I had the power to take all his suffering and bare it for him, to spare him every molecule of hurt from now until the day I stop feeling altogether.

Idle whimsy, probably the byproduct of that month I spent absorbing all the Victorian literature I could lay a hand on. Ironically enough, that project had been inspired by daddy; I wanted insight into the last vestiges of the world he was born into, a glimpse at the grandparents that I'd never meet. It hadn't helped much; dad's mannerisms are more evocative of early 19th century novels than the movement towards gritty realism that colored the turn of the century. But I had found myself drawn to some to the Victorian poets for a period and that spurred my flights of girlish daydreams for the short time it took me to grow out of it.

It was quite easy to rationalize my silliness away once Jake started making it a point to keep physical space between us. Indulging in my fancies after that would have been impossible unless I was completely delusional. Or if I had some form of hallucinatory disorder.

I really hope that's not the case. The unfortunate thing about perceptual disorders is that they disrupt your ability to sense reality, thus distorting your ability to process it correctly. The only way one could even check for that would be to ask someone else if they heard/saw/felt it too. And, if they didn't, then they know that you're crazy. The risk of asking such a thing is pretty much social suicide.

Whatever I think I felt is moot, if I don't get my head out of the clouds I'm going to lose what little contact I maintain with him.

I heft an internal sigh at myself. He's quiet now; he hasn't spoken since my gaffe. I grasp for a topic, that's not Seth or Embry or the fact that I'm unrequitedly in love with my best friend, and really scare myself with what I've become.

But was I to begin with?

Thankfully the drive was not as long as it seemed. There was still a rather long walk from the car to the isolated patch where they were having the bonfire. I had to speed walk to keep up with his oversized strides, which didn't tax me but there was still no conversation between us and I was really starting to worry about him. He had his head down, hands tucked in the pockets of his long khakis. I'm startled to realize that he's dressed nicely.

He looked good and, as an ocean breeze hit us, I caught a wisp of cologne coming off him. It smelled expensive; clean and light with an undertone of something musky, like pheromones.

Head in the game, girl, don't lose yourself.

I slowed down to let him pull ahead of me. Once the air was clear I took a lungful in, pulled off the high-heeled peep-toes that I should have never let Auntie talk me into wearing to a beach party, and flat out ran. I was ahead of him in six strides and I tossed him a wink as I flew past. Let him think it's a game. It'd be nice if he played along.

Silent as the dead and in total stealth mode, I darted to the shadows that the waxing gibbous moon was throwing off the cliff. I rounded the face and spotted the circle about a hundred or so yards ahead. I dug my left foot in to make a quick turn and then skidded into a moderate human pace, keeping to the cover provided by the trees. I cast my hearing behind me but there was no hint of a pursuit. Well, I was determined to have fun anyway; hopefully it would be a good model for Jake, do as I do is a more convincing argument than do as I say.

Seth's back was to me and he appeared oblivious to my approach. But just as I pounced, Leah spotted me and her narrowing eyes alerted him to my sneak attack. Grinning manically, he caught me midair and swung me up into a bear hug.

"You have to be quicker than that, Nessita." He gave me a quick dominating squeeze and I yelped audibly, thrashing desperately to dislodge and whack him with my pinned arms. "You'll have to be stronger than that too," he chided.

Leah made a noise like a grunt and walked away without saying a word of acknowledgment and neither Seth nor I acknowledged her departure. She and I have learned that it's easiest just to ignore each other.

He didn't tighten his hold but locked it instead; it was like being riveted by pair of steel girders and I couldn't lever myself out of it, struggling as futilely as a landed fish.

"I figured it would be wise," I replied lowly, "if I didn't draw that kind of attention to myself on my first night out." I punctuated it with a wriggle for emphasis hoping he'd loosen his grip.

"I guess there's not much you can do then," he taunted cockily without giving up a nanometer.

I managed to pull my arms in and turned so that we were completely face to face. I drew my fists up to wedge between us and started applying real force. Apparently the action only sparked his competitiveness because his eyes flashed and his muscles hardened holding fast. Not a drop of leeway.

I knew better than to get carried away. If I took this any farther it ran the risk of drawing unwanted attention so I glared at him but stilled.

"Do you submit?"

I scowled at him and he flexed around me. He seemed to think that it was a ploy; that I meant to attack once he let go.

"Say it."

I tried to force myself to go lax, "You -"

There was a dull packing sound and I was jolted free.

Seth now stood a foot to the right of me gingerly rubbing his shoulder, head slightly tucked, glancing peripherally at Jake's bare feet where they were planted in the sand to my left.

As nice as Jake looked in his new pants and black long sleeve button down, he was still shoeless as always.

"Seth," was all he said as he gave a curt nod before heading towards where Leah and Quil sat on a driftwood log by the fire pit conversing with Rachel and Paul. There was a tone to his voice that was entirely unfamiliar and it made me shiver despite the late summer air.

"What's gotten into him tonight?" Seth frowned as he followed Jake with his eyes.

I wanted to say something, everything. I wanted to lay my whole pathetic story on him and be comforted and assured. But Jake's reaction had as much chance of having been provoked by my social bumbling on the way here as it did of being a semi-passive-aggressive response to an internal abandonment issue dredged up by Seth's departure so I held my tongue and shrugged helplessly.

Apparently my distress was obvious because Seth smiled sadly at me and took my free hand. "C'mon, I want you to meet some people."

As we turned away from the gathering, I could have sworn that I heard Seth growling softly. But the flickering firelight backlit his face enough to show that he was still smiling. Soon enough all I heard was the sound of the tide lapping at the shore and a couple tinkering soprano voices as he led me down to a small cluster of girls by the water's edge.

The enormity of Seth's impending absence didn't really hit me until tonight. I've been so egocentrically preoccupied with Jake that it didn't have a chance to sink in. Ironically, it was because of Jake tonight that I realized it. As much as I've counted on Seth's help to deal with his sister, I never before noticed how much he supports me through my problems with Jake. Probably because we don't actually talk about my problems with Jake, when Seth sees that's there's something up he knows exactly what to do to divert me.

And meeting those girls was exactly what I needed.

Granted it did nothing to cure my wanderlust, if anything it whetted it. But that's probably a good thing in the long run, saying goodbye to Jake will be easier for me if I look at it with a sense of adventure.

Mostly I feel like I have purpose again, direction. I've been wandering around in a Jake induced haze, letting my limited youth slip by. I have centuries to be old; I have two more years at most to be young.

Hayley, Stacy, and Amber graduated with Seth and are giving him a ride to the University of Washington campus on Sunday when they head back to renew the lease on their 21st avenue apartment. Amber was kind of shy but very accommodating. She seemed so apologetic when she told me her major was still undecided that I wanted to give her a hug. Unconsciously, I was drawn to standing so close to her that our arms would brush whenever one of us shifted our weight. Each time we touched we'd glance at each other and smile while we listened to Stacy and Hayley expound on their post graduate plans.

Stacy is returning to La Push when she gets her B.A. in American Indian Studies. Apparently she started out a History major with thoughts of law school but when she took a survey class as an elective freshman year it had a profound enough impact to alter her plans. The way she spoke about rediscovering pride in her heritage almost made me jealous. Every nuance of her confident body language and authoritative speech indicated an incredibly strong sense of self and security of identity. She was like a poster child for self-actualization.

Hayley is studying landscape architecture and the animation with which she spoke about her studies was enough to make me appreciate the beauty in the balance of science and art that the discipline entails. Particularly when she described the Human Experience of Place course she'd be taking next term. I got caught up in her excitement as I told her what I had thought of a few of the theories of ekistics I had come across in my psychology studies. Her insights lent me a whole new understanding of the material.

When she remarked that my level of intellect was impressive in someone so young, it was like being told that I was smart for the first time. It's so different to hear it from someone that isn't related to me. But then she started asking me about high school and how old I was and what I did in Forks for fun because maybe we could hang out.

Seth swooped in and saved me again gleefully announcing that it was time to eat. The tinfoil wrapped salmon fillets were ready to be plucked from the coals where they were baking slowly and aromatically. He kept prodding Stacy and Hayley and scurrying away when they made to strike him until the two of them tried to gang up on him to get him to stop. Instead of avoiding their offense, he met them head on, looping an arm around each of their waists and tickling their ribs mercilessly until they clung to him laughing hard enough to cry.

I kept pace with Amber a few feet behind them marveling aloud to each other about the coincidence of us both being violin players. I didn't think anything of sitting beside her on the thick blanket after we got our plates. Not until I caught eyes with Jake over the fire. I expected him to turn away and ignore me but he didn't break contact, his gaze afflictive.

Suddenly it was like the past couple hours hadn't happened and it was still that awkward moment of loaded silence that haunted my evening with him.

"He's cute."

Amber's comment snapped me out of the trance that the reflection of fire in Jake's stare had evoked in me. I turned my head leisurely to her, trying not to appear startled.

"He's Elder Black's son," she continued, "right?"

I nodded mutely, willing the conversation to stop but not daring to give any sign of discomfort.

"Do you two know each other?"

"He's a friend of the family." I was proud enough with how steady and nonchalant my voice came out that I chanced another look at Jake. He was surveying me covertly; responding to something Quil was saying but glancing over from the corner of his eye periodically. I mimicked his surreptitiousness and fixed my gaze on the dancing flames while monitoring him with my peripheral vision, trying to figure out what was going on with him. We must have been watching each other like that for a while because when I realized Amber was still carrying on a conversation with me, I had no clue what it was about.

"…has a much better range but I don't think he has the appeal of a David Cook or even a Sanjaya."

"Who?" Even if I hadn't been drifting I wouldn't have recognized the names. She looked at me like I had just told her I drink three pints of human blood every week. I should have just played along, she probably had explained already.

"Oh," she recovered, "do you watch Dance Crew then?"

I shook my head, puzzled.

"Well how about The Hills? Or Heroes?"

I figured I should cut off this interrogation because we obviously didn't share the same taste in programming. "I don't watch much television," I shrugged, "and when I do it's mostly documentaries."

This must have been a severe faux pas because she stopped trying to make conversation. She finished her food and excused herself to find Hayley and Stacy.

Perfect.

I wanted to hit myself. Actually, I just wanted to go home, curl up in my comforter and pretend this whole day never happened. This socialization thing was so much harder than I anticipated, all the rejection I'd received today was new and had me off-kilter. It was definitely going to require some better preparation. Where was my power of endearment when I needed it?

I had been enjoying her company and now I was by myself again. Alone in a crowd; living in a different world then those around me. The significance of this statement began to dawn on me as I thought it.

Then Jake plunked down beside me. "Not hungry?"

I looked down at the mangled fish and potato in my lap a long moment before shrugging. "Not particularly."

"Having fun?"

"I was," I whispered eyes fixed on the woven pattern beneath my knees.

"Did that girl say something to you?" His voice escalated, "Because I'll-"

"No! No, not at all," I hastened to calm him, "I just, I just have a lot on my mind." I gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile but he eyed me skeptically.

"Like what?"

My gaze dropped back to the blanket as I tried to collect my thoughts. "Am I strange?" I finally ventured.

He seemed taken aback for a second but then his face steeled. His voice took on an edge of icy death, "_What_ _did she say to you_?"

"Nothing," I defend confused, "Why are you trying to change the subject?" And then I realized that he hadn't.

"Oh," I said glumly, "I am, aren't I?"

"No," he declared fiercely, "you're perfect." The way he held my eyes as he said it almost made me believe him. Instead my heart raced up into my throat and hammered spastically to the point that I felt like I was choking on it.

No wonder I was so crazy over him, he doesn't even have to touch me to elicit insanely intense reactions from my physiology at whim. He can coax my body like a virtuoso with a freshly tuned Stradivarius. I cut off that metaphor swiftly before my mind could linger on imageries of his dexterity.

"It's okay," I mumbled, "it's better that I find out now so I can be prepared when I'm allowed out in public for real."

His eyes bore into me and his lips pursed between a pout and a scowl. He looked like he was going to say something but Paul cut him off with a toast to 'Sethie-Bear' about growing up. When he finished he took a big swig from his tumbler, tossed it aside, and dropped down on one knee in front of Rachel.

Whatever he whispered gazing transfixed into her eyes had tears spilling down her cheeks. The way she nodded viciously and tackled him made it clear enough to everyone out of ear range what had just happened and the air filled with raucous hoots and hollers.

When I turned to gauge Jake's reaction, he was already on his feet. We shared a look and he hauled me up to go congratulate them.

A boy with long greasy hair pulled out a guitar and started strumming it loudly with no particular tune. Before long there were several people around him ad-libbing lyrics and singing over each other to the point that it just sounded like random background noise, though Stacy's voice sporadically peeked through. We had to shout at each other just to be heard and the happy couple made their escape not long after.

As soon as Paul and Rachel slipped off, Quil offered to treat Jake to a beer. Jake hesitated and I assumed it was about what to do with me.

"It's already close to midnight," I calculated checking the moon's location, "Dad should probably be eased through my transition slowly."

"Alright," he said after a pause, "you need a ride Quil?"

"Yeah, I don't think they're coming back."

We said our goodbyes to Seth and set out for the parking lot. Once we were out of sight, Quil broke into an easy jog goading Jake with comments about how lazy he'd become. Soon Jake was loping after him and I had to sprint to catch them. As soon as I pulled even, they threw on an auxiliary burst of speed and it turned into a race.

I had lost a shoe by the time the car came into view but I didn't care. I hadn't planned on ever wearing the darn things again anyway. I dropped the other one in a trash can at the end of the aisle and trotted barefoot across the coarse asphalt. I had already decided to bathe as soon as I got home so what was a little more dirt?

In a rare instance of gentlemanliness, Quil gave me shotgun. He sat square in the middle of the backseat, elbows resting on our headrests as he chatted away about mixed martial arts. I humored him to keep the conversation from stalling, asking questions about particular fighters and styles and ended up so engaged that I didn't notice when we pulled up in front of my house.

Before I could open my door, Jake was there, hand extended. I took it warily; the behavior was out of the ordinary for him to say the least. He kept our fingers entwined as he walked me to the door and I prayed that my palms wouldn't start sweating and ruin this rare instance of him touching me voluntarily.

"Thank you," I smiled at him when we reached the door.

He nodded looking at our clasped hands and stroked my knuckles gently with his thumb appearing contemplative.

When he finally looked up at me, his gaze was so intense that my knees wobbled from the force of it.

"Look, Ness, I wa-"

The door flew open behind me.

"Good evening, Jacob." Dad said crisply, "Nessie, your mother's waiting for you in the master suite."

It felt like I had been excused and I looked indecisively at Jake. I didn't care to indulge this interruption but he was focused squarely on daddy and released my hand.

"Bye, Jake," I said sadly.

His eyes flicked to me and softened, "Sweet dreams, Ness."

I barely made it to the bedroom before I heard an engine gun and daddy was beside me, face grim. He put his hand on my back and guided me through the door. Mother looked up, cloaked in concern. Just as I start to worry that something horrible happened while I was gone, she all but leaps at me.

"How'd it go? How is everyone? Did you have a good time, cupcake?"

"Paul proposed."

Her face lit and she shepherded me to the bed asking for every minute detail. I gave her what I could since I hadn't heard the actual declaration but I told her all about Seth and the UW girls, leaving out the embarrassing parts. When I was done, she smirked triumphantly at dad.

"It sounds like it was lots of fun." I couldn't tell which of us she was addressing but I answered anyway.

"It was, but I'm pretty worn out and I still need to wash up," I hopped off their bed self-consciously, "I probably got your sheets full of sand."

"It doesn't matter," she smiled. And it wasn't just a false reassurance.

"Good night, mother," I kissed her cheek, "Dad."

"Night, angel."

I held it together until I was under the hot spray of the shower. Only then did I release my saline sadness to swirl down the drain with the rest of the water. I stayed there until my ducts ran dry and the water ran cold. Exhausted, I was asleep the instant I cuddled into the mattress.

About three hours later, I awoke to Jake's face hovering above me.


	4. Come Undone

**A/N:** -blush- As this is my first story I'm still learning about certain things like doing layout and summaries and that anonymous reviews are blocked by default. So my humblest apologies to Meghan and anyone else that was unintentionally deflected. And I appreciate your patience **With a K**. As **razzle** noticed, I put a lot of effort into this; I try to be meticulous, about my research especially, and it can be time consuming. Even when school and life don't intrude.

* * *

I sighed and shifted in my chair for what may have been the second or the three hundred sixty second time that day. I don't even know what day it is. Moreover, I didn't care, either what day it was or the fact I didn't know. Logically I know this is quite odd but it's a fleeting thought for it is also inconsequential.

Nothing matters.

To the left of me, father nudged Jasper with his knee while he attempted to turn inconspicuously. I wasn't even curious about what was going on around me but then I felt warmth creeping in, the frosty detachment thawed from my thoughts. It was like coming back into my body. As I warmed my mind immediately landed on Jake.

Daddy hissed under his breath and exchanged a look with Auntie Alice. Then everything zoned back out into nothingness and I no longer cared to follow my train of thought. Father rose abruptly, chair squeaking back in an unusually unrefined motion for him. I raised my head to follow his pacing. His gait was erratic and he was wringing his hands in his hair, careful not to look at me.

I knew he was upset but I just didn't care. I watched detachedly, completely dissociated like it was an over the shoulder shot in a made for TV movie. A bad one at that. I turned back to the table.

It occurred to me that this might be what it was like to be completely objective. I knew how rare an opportunity this was if it was true. Unfortunately I just couldn't bring myself to care about that either. At least not experientially, within me somewhere I cared.

I knew because my numbness was incomplete; like my hands after a snowball fight, no fine sensation but still able to feel pressure. Deep down in the body I floated above there was something simmering like a dormant volcano.

That can't be good. I shrug mentally.

Mother comes in and tells father it's time to go. It's Charlie Night and it appears that I won't be attending this evening. She gives me a stricken desperate look and then turns, curling in on herself, and leaves just as quickly. Father shoots Jasper a pleading look in passing as he hurries after her.

Jasper shifts closer with a half smile and takes my hand. He doesn't say anything and neither do I. I give no gesture of reciprocity, not even eye contact.

But then my body shifts upright, the slumped musculature tensing slightly like trying to rise from a coma. I could feel it now, distantly but alive.

I turned to Uncle Jass for an explanation. He didn't say anything but his eyes pleaded for forgiveness. My brows pulled together quizzically and his smile saddened.

"Nessie darling," Auntie Rosie called from above.

Then everything retracted again.

I stood and left without looking at either Alice or Jasper and met Emmet going up the stairs when he blocked my passage. He gave me an evil grin and then grabbed me around the shoulders with one arm and proceeded to grind his free fist in a twisting movement on top of my head, frazzling my curls into tangles.

I didn't lift a hand to stop him, dangling limply off his arm. He gave a sound of annoyance and released me so I could pass.

Rosalie was at her vanity brushing her hair and we catch eyes in the mirror. She turns and tsks at me.

"Come here," she points at the spot beside her.

I oblige and kneel next to her chair, holding onto a leg of it to brace myself when she begins working on my ruined tresses. She went on for a while, not stopping until every miniscule bit was unkinked, admonishing me the entire time.

"Honestly, Nessie, the damn dog is fine."

"You shouldn't be so worked up over that mongrel anyway."

"What on earth did you do to your hair?"

"We should be concentrating on your party instead."

I gave no responses nor did she pause for any.

When she was satisfied she took my elbow and guided me up and to the closet. She forgot about me there and began rifling through it making random noises. After a few minutes Alice glided in and gave Rosalie a disgusted look before taking me by the hand and leading me back downstairs to Jasper.

The movement made my stomach gurgle when we reached the kitchen and she sat me beside Jasper. There was a kinesic exchange between them before she pulled out her cell and ordered some Penang chicken with jasmine rice.

Father and Mother still hadn't returned by the time Carlisle and Esme came home. For some reason she had spent the day at the hospital with him. They both smiled and hugged me in greeting. I returned it pathetically with one droopy arm.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Cullen spoke gently as he examined me; feeling my forehead and checking my eyes.

"Tired," I replied though my initial impulse was to say "not at all."

"She had some Thai food a little while ago," Alice informed him concerned, "Not much though."

"Do you want anything, sweetie?" Esme bent over me, rubbing my right shoulder with one hand and my left cheek with the other. "Anything at all?"

"I want to sleep," I sighed.

"You can -"

"In my own bed," I cut Alice off. "Please," I added pleadingly, "I just want today to be over." And I very much did, it had stretched on forever.

Jasper watched her intently but she held eyes with me.

"Alright," she agreed reluctantly, "let me get a couple things." Grabbing Jasper and an oversize clutch, she hooked arms with me and we left.

She smiled softly when she tucked me in, placing a delicate kiss on my forehead while Jasper looked on from the empty doorjamb. They wished me goodnight and in the quiet of the cottage I could hear them when they turned on the television down the hall. Neither of them watched much of it so they must be doing it to mask their conversation. They needn't have bothered, I wasn't interested in their discussion or anything else for that matter.

Sometime later I turned in my sleep and reality came crashing in as I inhaled Jake's scent from the pillow. I was engulfed in the memory of the previous evening. No longer distant and blurry, I felt every nuance with sharp clarity, remembered every moment like I was reliving it, like I had awakened to him instead of the evidence of his past presence.

_As his features faded into view, I thanked my subconscious for giving me what I could only have in my dreams. Languidly I hooked my arms around his neck, drawing his warmth down to mingle with mine. It was so cozy and comforting that I couldn't help but sigh in contentment and lull back to sleep._

_My eyes slipped shut and I marveled at the texture of his raven strands as I ran my hand through it reverently. His hair was thick but silky, every inch rich with sensation. _

_Then he spoke. It wasn't until I felt his voice rumbling through him and into my core that awareness started seeping in and I realized that it was his relaxed weight on top of me that was responsible for why I felt like I was sinking into the mattress. It was because I was. _

_He was mumbling thickly and I couldn't really make out the words, just a couple here and there. When he turned his head to look at me I was hit with a wave of what smelled like antiseptic and rotten fruit._

_That was when I came fully awake; to the knowledge that he was drunk. And that he was sprawled on top of me in my bed._

_The novelty of his intoxication was just enough to stave off the panicked palpitations triggered by the reality of the situation, of his closeness. But only barely, my overly tuned nerve endings kept throwing me a constant array of sensation, detailing every molecule of his form pressed against mine. The intimacy of his physique was making my breath short and my body flame._

_Desperately I tried to reel in my treacherous body enough to try and process what he was saying. But even once I was able to focus enough on his words to bring intelligibility to them he was still indecipherable._

_Even aside from the slight slurring, he wasn't making any sense though he seemed to be desperately trying to communicate something to me, staring deep into my eyes. But he was just speaking random sentences that had no connection to each other or any discernible continuity. _

"_Didn't mean it like that. Because I would. Anything. Just like Embry."_

_I grasped at that, maybe he finally wanted to talk about his feelings; maybe the alcohol had opened him up. "What about Embry?" I coax gently._

"_The same thing," he said sloppily but with an intense sincerity that belied his state. "I found someone more important than anything else. Then the pack, then my family, then my soul itself," he whispered softly laying his head down next to my cheek._

_Oh dear god. He imprinted. I encouraged him to go out with Quil and he imprinted on some random bar skank. _

_Suddenly it felt like his weight was crushing me and all the air decompressed from my lungs. _

_I felt as if I was the impaired one, I couldn't keep my thoughts coherent and my mind devolved into a repetitive mantra of horror and denial. No no no nononono._

_He was still talking; he nudged his head under my chin and was apologizing, over and over, for making me cry. _

_I lifted my hand from his hair and felt my face, it was still dry but that would change the second that the shock faded. If I didn't do something soon to release myself from the sweet torture of his embrace then I was going to start bawling all over him. And worse yet, he knew it._

_Now I was the one that needed space. I wanted privacy to grieve for my heart for this was surely the end of it. And yet I couldn't bring myself to flee, to move him. This could very well be the last time I ever saw him and almost certainly would be the very last time we touched like this._

_As much as I wanted to hide in some remote corner and drown in self pity, an even bigger part of me demanded that I milk this for all that I could. To hold him physically to me for as long as possible to create a memory complete enough to hold mentally for the rest of what was going to be an otherwise bleak and barren eternity without him._

_Because I knew in that instant, that beyond all my denial, Jacob was the love of my life. And I had lost him before I ever had him. I never even had a chance._

_The knowledge that I was going to have an utter and total breakdown the second he left certainly didn't help my wildly vacillating mind. I was torn between fleeing for solitary solace and trying to cling to him forever, to go into complete denial and refuse to ever let him go._

_It was like being rent apart as I considered each option again and again, idly petting his broad rippling back as I agonized in indecision. I hadn't realized I was doing it until he made a sound of lazy contentment. But when his arms tightened around me things became startlingly clear._

_Jacob Black was in my bed at 3 am of what could very well be our last ever night together. He was drunk and compliant and in my arms. And he was reveling in my touch._

_I adjusted my stroking hand so that just the tips of my fingers were trailing over the dorsal muscles lax with inebriation, tracing arabesques at a suggestive pace. He sighed and snuggled his face against my throat, lips brushing the soft skin there as his breathing deepened._

_Turning my head, I began placing cautious kisses on his temple and then, when he didn't stop me, down the side of his forehead. His respiratory rate picked up as my lips crossed his brow and dipped to his chiseled cheekbone._

_His eyes were open now, tracking my progress with rapt attention from beneath heavy lids. But there was a complexity to the sheen of his eyes that I couldn't even begin to process other than how it made my insides boil._

_If I wasn't so secure in the knowledge of how intoxicated he was and that this was my first, last, and only chance, then I would have wilted under such a gaze and feigned contrition._

_Instead I palmed the back of his head, twining my fingers in his hair, and showed him just how I felt. Not with pictures or words, just my complete love and devotion exactly as I felt it in that moment flush against him._

"_Nessie," he whispered._

_There was no way I was going to let him stop me now. I pressed my mouth to his softly, pecking my way slowly across his pliant lower lip. It tensed beneath mine when my eyes drifted shut but I had already put it all on the line, I had to let it ride. _

_If that other girl was going to have the rest of his life then I was taking tonight, I would not be denied. I didn't have anything left to lose, certainly nothing more important than him._

_Tentatively I started nibbling his lip lightly, pulling it gently to loosen it back up. When it quivered I sucked it into my mouth; working it like ice cream that's too cold to bite, trying to melt his resistance._

_The rest of his body went rigid and his eyes screwed shut. I fretted that he was going to push me off but I rejoiced internally when he didn't pull away. Emboldened I added my tongue to my oral caresses as my hands clutched and kneaded his shoulders and neck. _

_With a sound between a groan and a growl he succumbed to my ministrations. His arms clenched me like a boa constrictor and he began kissing back in earnest._

_I didn't care that I could taste the alcohol, his mouth was an epiphany. Words like passion and lust suddenly had real meaning for me, no longer immobile words in dusty books, they danced and raged through my essence as if they owned it. The air was so thick with him that I felt like I was drinking it; it tasted like the muskiness of his cologne but concentrated. It made feel like I was as drunk as he was._

_He slows after a few minutes, tugging my mouth softly with his, lipping it and releasing with excruciating slowness. He ignores my attempts to pull him back in, lapping at me and fondling my face with meticulous care until I'm squirming urgently beneath him. As my movements grow increasingly desperate, I sense his control falter. I press myself to him experimentally and his mouth pauses. I still but he stays tense so I try it again, rubbing slowly against the length of him._

_He growled so deeply that it might have been a roar. There's a rush of wind and clicking sounds as he tears his shirt off and the buttons scatter across the hardwood floor. And then his lips were everywhere. Never before had our age gap been so apparent. I had just been playing at this apparently, and this was now the real thing. _

_I just had time to run my hands up the ridged perfection of his abdomen and pecs before he rolled us so that I was straddling him. Instantly I was self conscious sitting there astride him with my palms braced on his sculpted chest, as much as I wanted this, as much as I was enjoying it, I had no idea what to do. _

_My veins flooded with nervousness and I cast frantically for some instruction from my muddled mind._

_Jake grabbed my hips firmly, stroking his large thumbs over the flat plane of the front of my pelvis. I felt a hot pulse between us and my belly burned with an ancient instinct. My body smoldered with a newfound feral knowledge and I reached for him in earnest._

_That's when the bedroom door sailed across the room and smashed to splinters against the opposite wall, right to the side of the headboard._

_Livid did not come close to describing the look on daddy's face. His eyes were black holes, lightless funnels of crushing death. I'd never seen anything like that before in my whole short life. My brain froze on a verse of Dante's describing the demons of the eighth circle. _

_I had never once been scared of any of my family but in that horrible moment I feared my father. I was petrified. And my father was absolutely apoplectic with rage; eyes cutting like obsidian daggers, mouth streaming with venom that flecked in time to his snarls. _

_Drunk as he was, Jake was still better equipped to deal with the situation than I. He tucked me beneath him and then jumped from the bed. This garnered father's undivided attention and he tracked Jake like prey._

_With just the slightest of glances to me, Jake leapt through the window a man and landed outside a wolf. Sprinting on impact, he had disappeared into the woods before father landed behind him. But father was right on his tail without a single word to me. _

_I sprang from my bed but father had been swallowed by the night as well. As I dashed to the dresser for clothes unquestionably intent on pursuit, grandma and Auntie Alice soared in, eyes fearful._

_They saw my panic and convened on me as one, hugging and comforting me between them. I tried to tell them that we needed to help Jake, that we had to stop father, but as soon as I opened my mouth I began sobbing uncontrollably. I was only dimly aware that this upset them as I grabbed grandma Esme's chin and showed her father's face coupled with Jake's subsequent flight, father right on his heels._

_She assured me that my mother and my uncles had spotted them crossing the yard and were already hot on their trail, that they wouldn't let daddy do anything rash. But I caught her giving Auntie a look of deep concern over my head._

_Jake was in danger and it was all my fault. With that condemnation I dissolved into hysterics._

Oh god, Jake. What had I done?

There was a thick filter of inattention over my recollections of the day but I distinctly remembered Aunt Rosie saying he was fine. As comforting as it was to know that, I was still horrified about the damage I had done to our friendship. I had taken advantage of him in a weakened state for selfish inexcusable reasons.

No wonder he hadn't been to see me today; he was probably with his girlfriend. It was the first full day I had ever gone without seeing him.

From the day I was born, Jake was there. This was something I never questioned; it would have made more sense for me to wonder why the sun rose in the mornings. Not one single day did I go to bed without having seen him, talked with him.

Even when he was still in school all day and performing all night pack duties, he would go without sleep to spend what little free time he had with me. I think he would have happily given up school as well, if I hadn't made it clear I wanted him to graduate. Looking back, I think I may have insisted because I couldn't go to grade school, I wanted him to have the full experience so I could have it vicariously.

And now it was over, this day probably just the first of many that he would spend with her instead. The thought hit me with such an earth rocking intensity that I felt woozy.

I gritted my teeth and ripped my mind from it. This had to be what was going on, why Uncle Jass was dogging me like my own personal bottle of vampire Prozac. Why daddy was- Oh!

I bury my head in mortification feeling more than a little ill. No wonder daddy couldn't stand to look at me, I'm the slut. I've never felt so ashamed, especially because I can't bring myself to regret it.

That memory of Jake was the most precious thing I owned now. I need it more than I've ever needed anything else beside Jake himself; more than family, more than blood.

I got up as quietly as possible, tiptoed to the doorway and listened intently but heard nothing. They must have left once I was asleep.

Impulsively I grab a spare notebook and write myself a letter, pleading for me to not forget again, to use my forced neutrality to my advantage and find a way to manage this crisis. Most importantly, to remind myself how much I really did care underneath it all and to not lose sight of that. There was a sense of urgency to my frenzy, like manic hypergraphia, I felt time was short.

When I had written everything I could, I knelt to tuck it under the bed and came across Jake's ruined shirt. It reeked of his cologne and I wrapped it around the notebook before stuffing it under the mattress.

I lay back down and tried to formulate my next step but my mind kept veering between the vivid ecstasy of Jake's touch and the crushing finality of his words; his imprinting, his _real_ one. I had known this would happen one day. I knew when I overheard Rosie talking to mother about how he acted on the day of my birth; how he went from mourning mother to fussing over me instantaneously.

If he could fall out of love with someone as perfect as mother than what was his strange little adoptee to expect when the time came?

I felt so light-headed from the pressure in my brain that the hot release of tears was welcome. Intent on indulging it while I could, I bawled until my hiccupping dissolved into the heavy exhalations of sleep.

* * *

**Endnote:** That blush makes even more sense now, doesn't it.

I really did not mean for the bedroom scene to get as far as it did. It was supposed to be just a teaser and then it kinda got away from me somehow.

That was my first time with anything like that and I'm very nervous about posting it. I'm worried that I might have overstepped my T rating. If this is the case please please please do not report me, just let me know and I will edit it down.


	5. Everybody's Talkin'

**A/N:** Wow, if I had known that all it would take was some making out to double my review count then I would have concentrated on completely different research topics. No one seemed overly concerned with it changing so I guess I'll leave it be.

My gratitude to everyone that commented, your analyses are both helpful and inspiring. So, much love to **razz **and **WaK **for sticking around and to **lily**, Lalage, **Bellita**, and **Silence **for joining in.

**Edit:** Oops, I left an important piece of dialogue out but it's fixed now, I hope it helps clear up the confusion.

* * *

I stared abysmally at the confection in front of me, tracking the viscous path of red wax as it descended the candle and puddled on the chocolate ganache. It was ridiculous. Even when I had loved chocolate, back when I could still feel the theobromine; such an extravagance of size was wasteful.

My family never ate any, and mother would only ever have a dab of the icing as she tried it each year to show her appreciation of the cake they got for her. Quite illogical, except when taking into account the fact that Jake had attended all the preceding festivities.

He was only too happy to consume the entirety of mother's cake and the majority of mine. Only to later lay on his back whimpering until I rubbed his tummy for him as he lamented it. It wasn't until my last birthday that I thought to ask why he kept doing it. Then I quoted Einstein's definition of insanity as 'doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.' He just gave me a lazy grin and closed his eyes as I tenderly palpated his bloated stomach.

I stared at the mammoth cake until it blurred to reveal the dark hole of his absence that it really was. I feel prickles of pain like a waking limb zinging across my soul. Painful though it was, it was novel because it was the only thing I had felt all day, the only thing I had felt in several days.

Jasper grimaces beside me and I feel sedately calm and slightly floaty. I ignore it and return my attention to the decadent reminder in front of me, mulling over what a pointless ritual this was.

At that Edward snatches the cake up and slams it in the garbage can mid-chorus before storming from the room. I didn't even realize they were singing until it stopped. Mother regards me briefly with an agonized indecisiveness before fleeing after him.

All she ever does anymore is look at me. Though to be fair, I haven't spoken to her in a few days now either. Then again, she isn't often even in the same room as me these days; she's been Edward's shadow for quite a while now.

I glanced at the clock and saw that it was past eight. It's been seventeen hours and fifteen days, a little over a fortnight since the incident but it feels infinite. Some writers theorize that immortality is a curse and I agree. These past two weeks of nothingness have been the longest of my six years. The idea of an eternity like this makes me long for the oblivion of nonexistence. I see no reason to be if it's going to be like this.

Then I feel ridiculously calm again. It's hard to keep my thoughts contiguous when he does that, I keep getting swept off my train of rumination as he plucks me from each mood swing and replants me into the vacuum.

Esme and Carlisle have their heads together in quiet conference only glancing up when Emmet mutters something and adjourns to the television. Rosalie rose as well but only to move over into the seat adjacent to mine.

She hums to herself as she wraps my curls around her fingers; slowly pulling until they drop away and then retrieving them to repeat the process, occasionally remarking on how pretty they were, how pretty I was.

Normally I enjoyed this kind of time with her, when she let her walls down enough to not fill the air between us with idle chatter as she groomed me sweetly. But now I was only aware of her touching my hair because I could see her doing it. She'd been doing this more and more often lately but at least she is still fairly unobtrusive for the most part.

This state of numbness would be infinitely more tolerable if I had privacy from the other family members like mother was giving me. If Jasper would remit his unyielding vigilance I might be able to make some headway in figuring out what to do. But without fail, either Edward or Alice would be right there to sic him on me the second I conceived something. Their gifts had become my curses.

My notebook had disappeared from beneath my bed early last week. The shirt as well. Logically I know it had to be one of them. The thought gives a sharp acidic twist to my insides that fades just as quickly. If I could envy I'd be jealous of mother's ability, instead I sit here dully noting that just being able to obscure Edward would make things so much easier.

I'm well aware that they are acting out of concern; that they're only trying to help me even though I have shamed myself. Logically I regret it but I know that if I could access the memory of Jake's touch it would all be worth it. I can recall it as one would read an uninflected dialogue, a mere recitation with no energy, no spark of life.

From this vantage point it's getting harder to see the value in that.

Emotions were beginning to look stranger and stranger as I considered how nonsensical they are, painful and misleading. Just look at how my family was acting over me.

Jasper looked like he would be ill if it were possible for him to be so, like too long between hunts but sans the aggression. Mother and Alice often look nauseated as well. Father is developing some severe anger management issues and I sometimes catch Esme and Carlisle looking at me like they're in mourning. Emmet's given up trying to play with me and I haven't seen Grampy since the week before Seth's party.

It clicked then that Seth was long gone. I wonder how Jake's holding up. Hopefully his girlfriend is taking care of him if he's taking it badly. Maybe she'll be able to do a better job of it then me. For a second I feel completely worthless and then it's gone.

This is preposterous; my existence is purposeless like this. Until they back off I'm just spinning my wheels. I have to think of something besides Jake and my family. Moreover I should find something to do.

I remember Seth's friends, the girls, I hadn't thought of them since the night we met. The weirdness with Amber seemed insignificant now and I recalled instead what had been said, about how education was shaping their lives.

It seemed as good a place and time to start as any. I fairly leapt from the table and out the door. This was going to take research and I had nothing but time, no obligations or concern for anything around me. They'd probably follow me anyway but it didn't matter.

* * *

I finish the last page of one book and open the next one to its first. I'd already been through classical philosophers; Socrates, Aristotle, Plato, and major psychologists; Pavlov, Freud, Jung, Erikson, Skinner, Watson, Maslow, Harlow, Binet, Rogers, Loftus, Durkheim. I had picked my way through the compendium of human thought, stopping here on Marx and there on Darwin. I read everything that was considered seminal no matter the category. I've read Einstein and Hamilton, Hawking and the Bhagavad Gita, Poincare and Zinn. I had just started the biographical material.

Grandpa has been happy to bring me whatever I ask for; if he doesn't have it, they get it. They've all been quite tolerable as of late, giving me my space to work.

Jass is beginning to back off and the rest of them completely avoid me except to bring my nourishment or putting me to bed. Autumn is starting to give way to winter and I'm cold often lately, I'd think it was a front except that it's been unusually clear the past couple days.

The sun has long since set and soon one of the women will come to tuck me in before dissolving back into the woodwork. Grandpa is the only male that will linger around me longer than necessary. Jass seems only too glad to be reprieved of guard duty.

As if on cue, he walks in with aunt Alice and father. I nod in greeting and they smile as I turn back to my book. I block them out by concentrating on Shattuck's introduction to The World I Live In. I refuse to give them any cause to put me back under sedation.

I make it to the bottom of the page before father lifts me like a baby and carries me to my room. He talks with Alice and Jasper over my head as if I'm not there, making some sort of arrangements. I begin contrasting the key points of drift theory against bond theory and their merits of both as part of the control paradigm. Father wishes me goodnight as he turns out the lights and I drift to sleep contemplating Reckless' containment theory.

I only got a few hours sleep before I awoke to my parents quarreling. I've never heard them raise their voices to each other before, let alone fight.

"I've _never _wanted to go to New Hampshire," she was shouting, "let alone like this! What about my father! This isn't fair, not to me and not to them." Her voice grew very soft, "I can't stand seeing them like this. Edward, he's n-"

"This is the only alternative," his voice was unyielding, "you heard Alice."

"You can't fight it forever," she was shouting now.

"How can you even suggest that, Bella," he yells back.

Then the door slams.

"It didn't work for me and it won't for her." I've never heard mother so livid. "You're only making it worse!"

They argue across the yard and out of earshot.

Long suppressed emotion surges in me and I taste my anguish rising in the back of my throat before I rein it in. We'll have to wait at least a generation before we can safely return to Forks.

Jake's children will have children by then; he might not even remember me at all. He's already acting like he doesn't, he hasn't called or been by in months now. I know it's my fault for behaving so shamefully. I'm compelled to at least apologize before we skip town.

And what better time than right now, with my parents conveniently distracted and the involvement of a wolf to deflect Alice. I don't bother changing my pajamas, just hurdle the window and gallop into the forest trying to readjust to using my legs. They respond like new and I vaguely recall a dream I had a lifetime ago.

I've barely crossed the border when I hear a heart-wrenching howl and my legs respond to it reflexively, no thought involved at all in the action.

Not too long after that I found them in a thicket, nude and clinging to each other.

The sight of them standing there with Leah's hand splayed across Jake's bare chest and her face buried in his russet shoulder was so profoundly devastating that my brain ceased function altogether. I had utterly no capacity to fathom what my eyes were showing me, much less process the intimate scene being played out. There was just no way to rationalize what I was seeing.

I was anesthetized with shock, mostly because it was Leah holding him and not his girlfriend. It had never occurred to me that he might be capable of such a thing. Unbidden, all the times I berated myself for being jealous of the she-wolf poured over me, like bile spewing over my brain.

And then my eyes met Jake's over her shoulder and his face crumpled with what looked absurdly like relief. He moaned my name like a sacrament but Leah shook her head furiously and hugged him tighter speaking words of consolation.

He seemed to become aware of their state of undress and started to gently disentangle her, cooing noises of comfort like a mother would to a colicky baby.

"I'm going to get our clothes," he patted her head and shielded my view of him with her body but he never once broke eye contact with me. "I've missed you."

Leah turned and saw me for the first time, staring like she didn't know who I was. She nodded dumbly and released him, hugging herself instead. He kept glancing worriedly at us as he retreated into the trees.

"Please just stay right there," he pleaded urgently, "I'll be right back."

I wondered vaguely where he expected her to go, naked as she was.

And she looked so vulnerable and broken, crouched there on the forest floor covering herself that the impulse to comfort broke through everything else. I scooped her up into our first ever hug, rubbing her back and making sounds of reassurance.

At first she relaxed into my embrace and I could feel the sobs shake her soundlessly. But then she stiffened and threw me off like I was a blanket laden with small pox.

"I don't need your pity!"

In the second it took me to formulate a response, the opportunity to deliver it had passed.

"What are you doing here," she demanded, "You're supposed to be gone." She glared at me accusingly, "Haven't you done enough?"

I was stricken by her words, her anger. All the guilt I felt over what I had done to Jake frothed to the surface. "I just wanted to apologize before I left." I mumbled, head hanging.

Wiping her face furiously she sniffed, "I don't need you and neither does he, no one does."

All the devastation I had compartmentalized came crashing back with a force strong enough to knock me backwards. I white-knuckled a pine tree for support to keep me upright but instead of stopping she advanced.

"They never did," she sneered sensing my weakness like a seasoned predator, "Even your own father wanted to abort you."

She leveled her gaze at me and approached as she spoke. My grip faltered and knees buckled with every word.

When she reached me she flipped my hair off my shoulder and with deceptive gentleness leaned in to whisper the death blow in my ear like a lover reciting poetry.

"Jake even offered to father your replacement so she could have a _real _baby."

My legs gave out in unison and I sat down hard on the dirty ground. A rock cut into my thigh but I didn't feel it, I only knew because I smelled my own blood.

It was like that damned night but so much worse, like losing my entire family in one blow. They never told me about things like that, they'd never told me anything directly. I had just pieced together what I saw and overheard over the years.

I didn't know them at all. Just like I didn't know Jake. Just like I didn't even know me. That was when I realized just how stupid I was, that I was living in my own construction founded on denial and fallacious assumptions. If it hadn't been so devastating, I might have thanked Leah for showing me the truth.

"You think you're better than me but you never will be," she spoke icily from somewhere above me. "I can stop being a monster but you'll _always _be one."

Unable to take anymore I scrambled to my feet and ran, not even pausing to breathe until I was back in my derelict little room eyes streaming and chest hitching. I was conditioned enough that the sight of my sanctuary was enough stimulus to start calming me.

My precious logic began returning and I scolded myself for forgetting it in my moment of weakness. This was just a problem of being uninformed, something easily fixed when dealt with rationally. Except all my research thus far had come to naught.

Maybe the problem was that the social sciences are only dedicated to humans and I really wasn't one. I could interrogate grandpa about vampire behavior, but I wasn't really one of those either. I was an idiosyncrasy amongst oddities.

And then it hit me like a Shakabuku.

I actually felt something akin to excitement for the first time in months, I finally knew what to do. And I had very little time to do it.

I booted up the computer impatiently clicking my nails in anxious tattoos against the keyboard. Running search after search, scouring databases with the clock panting down my neck. Nothing. In exasperation, I typed a solitary term in the Google search box and hit 'I'm Feeling Lucky,' even though I didn't.

But I was.

I ripped the plug from the wall and grabbed Seth's old collection of Paso a Paso before dashing to my parent's room, directly to the chest of drawers where mother kept my papers, thanking every mythological deity I could think of that I hadn't grown too much since August. That would make this so much easier. I took the emergency cash and an overly handled photo of the three of us from when I was small.

The last thing I grabbed were the keys to the Jaguar as I plunged out the door and headlong into the night running all the options tirelessly in my mind.

I didn't begin to relax until several hours later when the plane began its final descent. It may be a long shot but at least it was a jumping off point; there was literally nothing for me in Forks now.

* * *

**Endnote:** Yeah, I know. Sorry.

If it's any consolation, this decision wasn't a result of things spiraling out of control or anything else like that. This has _always_ been part of my plan.

Mwahahaha.


	6. Wild World

**A/N:** This was probably the hardest one yet to write and my apologies for its brevity, I'll _try_ to get the next one out quick to make up for it.

**Bellita**: XD

Lalage: I tried something new this chapter for you. Hopefully it'll make some things clearer.

**casey**: Aw, thanks. :)

**lily**: -insert evil laughter-

**WaK**: I just love how much you've connected to the way I'm handling the characters.

**Silence**: ;)

**razzle: **I'm touched that I've touched you. :)

**Chrissy**: You are so sweet. :D

* * *

_Jacob

* * *

_

Saturday Night

I raced back to them as fast as I could, thrilled beyond belief that at the exact moment I needed her most she had appeared. It had to be a sign. Despite the months of her ignoring me and everything her leech of a father was saying, she had to still care. If only because of how very much I needed her to.

But when I saw Leah standing there alone I knew in my gut it was going to get even worse then it had been. The guilt on her face said it all.

"What did you do?!" I snapped.

I couldn't believe this. Leah had been so decent these past few months helping me deal with Nessie's avoidance.

A mere hour ago I would have never have seen this coming, not with how we bonded over being rejected. I had never felt closer to Leah then when we broke down together tonight, she had never been more understanding. Not even when she helped me through Bella. But that wasn't anything compared to this; my torch for Bella had been a candle compared to the wildfire that I felt for Nessie.

And now Leah stood there looking like she was about to tell me she had run over my puppy and all I could feel was rage at her betrayal.

When she shook her head and started crying again I knew it was pointless to even try talking to her. I had to do what I should have done a long time ago. I threw her clothes at her and took off full tilt for the Crypt. I needed Nessie and she _would _hear me out, she _would _forgive me, no matter _what _I had to do.

It was ridiculous that this had gone on as long as it had.

I arrived at the main house as fast as my two legs could carry me. But it sounded like the action had already started. Even before the mansion came into view I could hear them shouting at each other. Edward and Bells were having it out something fierce in the front room.

As I got closer I could hear that they were arguing about me, about Nessie, about leaving. _Oh hell no_.

I cursed roundly and burst through the door hurling curses at that blood-sucking monster. He didn't get to have them both; Nessie was _mine_. There was no way that this was happening, not without a fight.

I was barely aware of the others; the whole crew was there, ringing the room and watching us silently. If I had cared I might have wondered why they weren't getting his back. Even Blondie didn't move a finger to intervene and she's never needed a reason to attack me in the past, her or the big one. And yet they just watched expectantly from the sidelines. Maybe they'd stay out of it as long as I didn't phase.

Bella was next to me and her face looked like what mine must have, she was beyond pissed. If I hadn't been just as pissed I might have been disturbed by it, she looked even scarier than when she found out I had imprinted on Nessie.

"She's _my _daughter and I will do what's best for her, _dog_." He snarled at me and his face was contorted in the way it was the night he burst in on us.

"That's not your decision," I yelled. I didn't care one lick what this arrogant prick wanted, he didn't scare me. "It's hers!"

Where the hell did he get off thinking that this was up to him? This wasn't about him. He had no right to just take off with her. I was dying now having her nearby and just not being able to talk to her; if she left Forks without me I don't know what I'd do.

"No it's not!" he bellowed, "She is a _child_ and I am her _father_, you sick twisted _pedophile_!"

That did pull me up short. Damn him.

I felt bad enough about that without him bringing it up _every single time_ he saw me. But it was beside the point. I had been drunk and I had no intention of doing that again any time soon. I was happy to wait for her. But not from across the country, I needed her where I could see her. Nothing could excuse him stealing her away.

"She's almost full grown, _Edward_," I sneered his name, "You can't hide her away from the world forever!"

That whole incident was his fault anyway. If he hadn't interrupted us on the doorstep when I was about to tell her how I felt, if he hadn't told me that the fortune-teller had seen her crying over me, then I would never have taken Quil up on his offer, I would have never returned in the night to check on her.

Her aunts were probably equally as guilty for that matter, if she hadn't been dressed like that, if she hadn't looked like my own personal angel right here on earth, then I would never have noticed just how much she had _physically_ matured. I've never seen anything like how amazing she looked in that tight little dress. Just the thought of it could make me drool.

There's an inhuman sound of pure hate and he springs at me. I duck to the side but he was too fast, he clipped my shoulder and we crashed backward into the entertainment center. He lands on top of me, dripping his nasty vampire drool everywhere and fingers clawed as he swipes at me.

I hold him off with one arm, hand clenching his face to keep his mouth at bay as I lifted him one-handed off my chest. Then I squatted my legs between us and kicked him off with all my strength. He flew into the couches destroying them but landed like a cat, righting himself mid-flight and dropping into a crouch on the pile of splintered lumber and cloth.

I kicked up onto my feet in time to hip-toss him through the bay window when he came at me again. Not giving him time to regroup and retaliate, I leapt over the broken glass after him, landing a solid dragon kick to his chin as he stood.

It rocked him but he shook it off and recovered quickly. When I threw a right cross at him he swerved and twisted to the side to deliver a vicious kidney punch. I caught him with a back elbow to the head that knocked him away as I spun to face him.

When Quil had insisted on me joining his Muay Thai class in Lacey I was more than a little skeptical about why we would need martial arts training. What was the point when you could turn into a giant werewolf?

I had only given in when he said that he needed something to fill his time waiting for Claire and that Embry would have done it if he was still here. At the time I thought it was pretty low of him to play that card but if I survived this I was going to have to thank him.

I stood confidently in a half stance, fists cocked, waiting for him to come at me again. His eyes were darting, looking for an opening. I knew he was listening to my thoughts so I concentrated solely on waiting for a response to counter, entering the near meditative state of pure action the constant practice had taught me.

When he moved, I moved; I mirrored his actions easily and I could sense his frustration building. This wasn't going to be like last time. I was fully sober and his fancy-boy moves were nothing to me.

If he gave me the chance I was going to break his nose. I didn't care how fast it would heal; just feeling it shatter beneath my knuckles would be worth it. Where the hell did he get off playing god with our lives just because he's having some issues coming to terms with Nessie's adulthood?

He had stolen my heart away from me once, I'd sooner kill him before I'd let him take my soul. Nessie was the only thing I lived for now, I'd die without her. There was nothing I wouldn't do for her, even if it meant going through her father and her whole damn family. They couldn't keep us apart anymore.

All this time thinking that she didn't want me around anymore had been the most painful experience of my life; worse than anything I ever felt for Bella, worse than Mom dying. To find out that it was him all this time mad me so incredibly angry that I was enjoying every blow I landed on him with a sick pleasure I didn't know I was capable of until now.

No one messes with _my_ mate, not even her own family.

He zigged and rushed at me, jabbing at my head. His form was pathetic; I easily grabbed his fist in my much larger hand and sneered down at him. Without the element of surprise he had nothing.

"Give it up, old man," I taunted him in a way that was anything but playful.

His face twisted in an unholy way before he dropped down and side-kicked the spot just below my left knee causing me to pitch forward. I tucked as I went down and somersaulted back onto my feet several yards across the grass from him.

The others were watching us from the front porch, wary but waiting. Bella was looking less angry and more worried by the second. She kept whispering furiously to Alice who would only shake her head, eyes impossibly wide, in response. Jasper was beside her with a look of intense concentration.

They had been quick to step in last time, when he caught me in Nessie's room. And I hadn't even been fighting back, I had just tried to fend him off as best as I could in that state.

As we circled each other calculating I began to feel my anger bleeding away. I was still spitting mad but the grim satisfaction of smashing Edward's face in was starting to look less appealing. When I imagined Nessie's face when she found out, the sadness in her chocolate eyes, I actually felt guilty. If only because it would hurt her. I really didn't care what happened to the leech as long as he backed off.

"Never," he swore, "she's my baby."

I clenched both fists until they cracked and the calmness blazed back into fiery hate.

I nailed him with a spear to the stomach solid enough to take him off his feet. He savagely hammer-fisted me with the hand that wasn't caught between us when we landed in the dirt. I got my feet under me and grabbed him by the middle, lifted, and slammed him fiercely back into the ground. But he hooked his legs behind mine on the way down and I fell on top of him.

I scrambled to get a mount but he caught me in a half guard, delivering a vicious head-butt to my forehead that made the world sway for a second. It righted itself quickly when I felt him pressuring my elbow to bend the wrong way. I yanked it out of his grasp and then swung it like a club down onto his face. His cheekbone made a loud crunching noise as it gave way and Bella started shrieking.

I looked up just in time to see Emmet airborne, coming straight at me in a flying tackle. The wind rushed out of me on impact and when my skull bounced off the lawn there was a sickening crack before everything went black.

When I came to, the doctor was standing over me and daylight was streaming around him into the room. I couldn't tell if all the colors flashing at me were from the sun hitting him or because I had a concussion. Both were distinct possibilities.

There were several loud angry voices coming from beyond my vision but my head hurt and swam too much to follow them. From the look on Carlisle's face though, it was something bad. Real bad. Something other than the fight.

Great. Of course there'd be a crisis right when I thought things couldn't get any worse.

* * *

**Endnote:** Truth be told I felt a little cheated in BD when the big war was just a really long conversation so this scene was important to me. I am particularly proud of the fight choreography and rather enjoyed writing it. I hope it's easy to follow because I'm not changing it.


	7. Constant Craving

**A/N**: Nessie is so much easier that it makes me not want to bother with Jacob anymore. I missed being able to write my flowery descriptions.

And a big thanks to **razzle, Silence**, **Jutey**,** Bellita**, Lalage**, C. Fontaine**, **lily**, Mee, **Chrissy **and **WaK **for reviewing. I admit that to some extent I use y'all as Beta readers and make some choices based on some of the things you say, so your comments are invaluable, even if it's just some _much needed encouragement_. :)

* * *

_Renesemee_

* * *

Monday

One of Buddha's noble truths, Samudaya, is that attachment is at the root of suffering. Rather cynical sounding for the Enlightened One when you think about it but probably the truest of the four.

While eliminating attachment being the solution to eliminating suffering, Nirodha_**, **_is logically speaking, equally as true seeing as it is the inverse; the latter is extremely hard to master and thus almost never attained. Therefore the cause is easily seen because most people suffer. But as much as complete detachment works, it is exceedingly rare, and thus less apparent in daily life.

Even though it seems that most people don't care, it is actually excruciatingly hard to stop doing so. Especially if one has given over their whole essence to it.

Space makes things easier, just as time can. Letting the memories fade because clinging to them is just another connection to be dissolved.

As with most things, it is merely a matter of conditioning. Retraining oneself to not respond to the stimuli, to extinguish emotion. It may take many trials and discipline but it can be done. As long as one can keep themselves from fearing the outcome, from fearing the idea of not feeling attachment. Most people are actually quite attached to being attached.

The inevitability of human drama is a lamentable, if necessary, thing. To have emotions at all is to be inseparably bound to there being negative consequences and even to have all the rationality in the world paired with them can not prevent this. Even if one were able to invoke complete neutrality (which is arguably impossible as well) this is still unavoidable because as long as at least one person in the equation feels the slightest bit of anything this emotion will build upon itself over time to become just as upsetting as any soap opera construction. Even in complete isolation, one would enact certain dramas.

I sat there in the row of ugly plastic and polyester seats waiting for my second connection, sipping my _café con leche_ and contemplating Siddhartha. Having already read all of Seth's high school Spanish texts cover to cover, I was meditating on the prince's attainment of enlightenment and the events preceding it. It was hard not to feel empathetic.

Keeping my logic pure was harder here outside of Jass's inoculation but the past couple of months of trial and error had brought me far. My self-discipline training made it possible to clinically detach and I could handle most things without deteriorating into immobilizing anguish. There was still a large part of me that was desperately miserable but it was stringently contained.

My kitschy blue and yellow shirt was emblazoned with _Yo Amo Argentina_ and my teeny tiny shorts kept riding up so much that they may as well have been undergarments. But this ensemble was still a step up from the mid-riff baring_ Texan Pride_ t-shirt I got at the last stop-over. I was severely regretting not having taken the time to pack some clothes because these had been the only things in either gift shop that had fit right.

It screamed tourist. I kept glancing up to find women giving me dirty looks and the men wearing strange expressions that made me feel even more uncomfortable. I sat there fidgeting my too pale legs as I watched the spectrum of rich cocoas and golden caramels that paraded past me like Godiva's production line.

This whole venture had been extremely impulsive and so unlike me but I knew why it was necessary as I stared at the angry red of my new scar contrasting markedly with the white of my inner thigh. It had healed almost immediately but the mark remained. I had never been physically injured before and I was curious as to whether or not it would fade with time. I didn't particularly want a permanent reminder of the other night.

Being at a distance makes it less complicated in some respects, without the shock of them in front of me it was easy to remind myself that Jake wasn't my property and I had no right to get upset about him and Leah. That was his girlfriend's territory, not mine. I had no claim to him.

It was also clear that Leah had attacked me as a defense mechanism; her reaction to cover her emotions with anger was perfectly within Freud's, Matza's, and even, to some extent, Kubler-Ross's paradigms.

My running away had been extremely impulsive and childish. I should have waited for Jake to return and said my piece. I shuddered to think what he must think of me now, what she might have said to him in her emotionally disturbed state without me there to explain myself.

Not that we would have been seeing much of each other anymore at any rate. Not with me in New Hampshire. Not with his girlfriend or girlfriend_s_ or whatever either. There's a chance that he wouldn't even have started talking to me again anyway.

But then I see his face, the way he was looking at me as he left. All my suppressed emotions insist that his expression meant that he had wanted to see me, had been happy to see me. But feelings aren't rational, they don't follow logic; if they did they'd be thoughts. My heart was trying to see what it wanted to see and it had no evidence to support its claim besides a teasing image of his eyes.

Granted it _felt_ like a rather convincing argument but it had no cogency.

"_El vuelo cinco cuarenta y tres a San Carlos de Bariloche está abordando en la puerta eme-seis ahora."_

I pop up and start making my way through the throng swarming around me, my cheap lemon flip-flops slapping loudly against the linoleum. The few people I made eye contact with blatantly stared and by the time I reached the gate and boarded I was being careful to keep my gaze averted. I didn't want anyone to be able to place my face because it was only a matter of time until my family came looking for me.

Honestly, I was surprised that my aunt hadn't already seen something and contacted the local authorities to detain me. _Quizá porque mi tía no puede hablar español._ Maybe it's because I don't know what I'm doing. Or maybe they just don't care enough to track me down and retrieve me; perhaps my departure was a blessing for them. It was a depressing thought until I realized that I should just be thankful to have my freedom.

No point thinking about it now anyway. I had more pressing concerns at the moment. The longest I've ever gone without blood is a little over a week. And, including the day I had already spent traveling, it had been three days now since my last dose.

* * *

As extravagant as my family's lifestyle is, I couldn't help but be grateful for it right now. Only my father would keep enough in the _emergency_ stash to pay for all the flights and, at the current exchange rate, still be able to cover at least half a year of fancy hotel rooms and souvenir shopping. I smiled as I thought of him and about how Mom probably wouldn't think it was funny at all. I missed them both. A lot.

This whole thing was turning out to be much harder than I thought it would. Emotions popped at me with every memory and it was hard to not feel sentimental. Then I'd remember why it was that I wasn't with them. There were a lot of reasons, each one bad; some worse than others, one much worse than all the rest.

As much as I reasoned with myself that these feelings were unjustifiable it made no difference. The only thing I could do was ignore them, turn my mind away from them. To cover that inner wheel with as much external noise as possible.

San Carlos de Bariloche was exactly where I needed to be. It was amazing. It was a vibrant town full of art and life surrounded by a verdant landscape, picturesque mountains, and a sapphire lake all dotted with palatial hotels and ski resorts of stone and wood. It was rather surreal in that respect; going from fall to spring overnight. Compared to the damp grey forests fortressing my far away home, the scenery here was like stepping into a painting of Eden.

I had learned long ago about the machinations of the seasons and their relationship to the degree of the planet's axis but it had not prepared me for the experience one iota. There was sun like I had never seen before in my entire brief little life, the warmth of it as it played on my skin contrasted deliciously with the constant cold air blown at me by the retreating breezes.

Even the shopping was impressive and I'm not one to be impressed by such things usually. Not only could you find real brand name clothing at a quarter of the price, there were over _fifty_ handmade chocolate shops, literally one on almost every corner. Within an hour I had a whole new wardrobe that was much more suited to my tastes and the climate and even a couple 'just in case' outfits that Auntie would have been proud of.

As soon as I thought to miss her though there was something new to see. I felt like I was in a South American version of a Hemingway novel.

It was absolutely thriving with people; this town was a year round Mecca for musicians, artists, international tourists and students.

For the first time since I had fallen into purgatory I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I could feel it vibrating in the air and all over me like Mesmer's invisible fluid. I was close, I had to be. This place was simply too magical for me not to be.

There was only one thing in the world that could make this place more perfect. And the thought of it made me feel ill all over again. Just one thing that I couldn't forget, that was always there beneath the surface like my very heartbeat itself, presenting itself steadily every time the outside world quieted enough for me to hear it.

When I sat to admire the panoramic view and eat my _arroz con bistec_ I overheard a couple backpackers seated near me conversing about a nearby hostel, the Marco Polo Inn. I introduced myself and asked if they wouldn't mind giving me directions. The taller blonde one answered smilingly in perfect Spanish but with a German accent, telling me that he and his friend Kurt would be happy to escort me as they were headed there anyway. He introduced himself as Fredrick.

"Encantada, Vanessa," he bowed his head and kissed my hand.

How European, I guess. He was certainly cute by most standards, a clean-cut blue-eyed blonde in his early twenties with a strong build and sharp, almost effeminate features. His calves were very nicely shaped; it was obvious that he was a real backpacker, a hiker, even before he said that he was here for the park.

I smiled in a way I hoped was charming and told him that I had come for it too. Immediately he offered to take me along when he went. But when he took my arm I regretted having said anything. It just felt so wrong on an instinctual level. I knew I was being ridiculous and ungrateful but I didn't want this guy touching me. I didn't want any guy here touching me.

But again I ignored my illogical feelings; I hadn't had time to research the local culture and customs and I couldn't afford to make any mistakes out here on my own with no one to come rescue me. So I grit my teeth and bared it, fleeing to my room once I registered and vowing to avoid him if I could.

I didn't unpack per se, rather I just stuffed my new backpack to the brim with all my other purchases. I wanted to be ready to go in an instant if need be. When I was finished I tucked it under my pillow and took a well deserved nap, I hadn't slept well since I awoke to my parent's fighting the night before last and it was with that miserable thought that I drifted off into a troubled sleep.

Given how badly I slept, I should have expected Fredrick to be waiting in the lounge to pounce on me when I wandered out for food much much later. Kurt was gone and he was instead accompanied by several other young men about his age playing at the pool tables. They were all very eager to meet me and I embarrassedly hoped that it wasn't because Fredrick had been talking about me.

Actually, he didn't seem too happy about it either and insisted on taking me out to eat. I wanted to decline but there was no denying that having a personal tour guide would be invaluable so I talked myself into accepting. He was very polite and well mannered. But even though he would just barely brush my hand as we talked, I still had to concentrate on not recoiling.

It got to the point that I started to get angry at myself for being so ridiculous, Jake was the main reason I was here and I was acting like even the most innocuous gestures were tantamount to high treason. I had to stop thinking like I was in a relationship; we weren't even really friends anymore.

But no matter what it still felt odd, like I could feel something creep through Fredrick's hand and up my arm at every contact. It was rather disturbing.

I turned my attention outward to the bustling city and my bag of flaky _pastelitos_. Though the sun had set the foot traffic was just as bad if not worse. Rainbows of neon lights and people flowed through the streets like blood through the body of the town, like they were all part of some larger organism. And I was a part of it too as I traveled within its veins.

The thirst caught me by surprise.

It had been so long since I had felt it that when my throat closed up I choked on it. Fredrick jumped to respond, grabbing me firmly from behind and, if I hadn't managed a rusty "_esparate, estoy bien,_" would have given me the Heimlich.

He didn't let go immediately, just softened his hold. I could feel his heart where my back pressed against his chest. The beat was hypnotic; lulling and maddening at the same time and I felt as tormented as poor Poe must have. My mouth salivated and swallowing it back did nothing to slake my roasting throat as I felt my own pulse speed in anticipation.

He swallowed audibly and I realized I was panting. My mind spun into action and I extricated myself in a single twirling motion to stand several feet away from him.

"_Lo siento_," I smiled demurely, "_Gracias por su ayuda_."

"_Por nada_," he smirked rakishly and gestured for us to continue on our way.

I made sure to stay outside of arm's length but kept the conversation polite trying desperately to find a topic to focus on to distract myself. I interrogated him about the park and the lake of the same name, about where the foothills of the Andes began. I drilled him mercilessly but he seemed only too happy to speak at length about hiking through it.

Unfortunately his stories weren't so much informational as they were boring accounts of his athleticism. I'm sorry but walking up a mountain by yourself is not a particularly impressive sport. He was so dull that my thoughts kept circling back to the sound of his pulse like buzzards swarming over a helpless calf.

And then he stopped walking. I looked up and saw we were outside a bar.

"_Soy dieciocho solamente_." I told him when he started to walk in.

"_No te preocupes_," he reassured me.

But when the door opened I was assaulted with images of Jake on top of me; the taste of the liquor in his mouth, on his tongue, in his very breath as we shared it. It made me weak in the knees until I remembered how erratically out of control it had caused him to act.

Doing something to impair my ability to function in a strange place would be absurdly stupid. I stopped Fredrick's arm when he tried to place his hand on the lumbar of my spine to guide me in and told him that I was eager to see the discos I had heard so much about. It wasn't a total lie; two squealing girls that sat behind me on the flight from Buenos Aires didn't stop talking about them the whole way here.

"_¿Quieres bailar?_" He grinned and took my hand from his arm to steer me further down to a nightclub called Bypass. He paid for both of us before I could reach for money and proceeded to lead me inside. There was no overhead lighting, just lasers patterning the crowd with shifting geometric shapes of changing colors. The music was pulsing and so loud that I could feel it reverberating within me.

It was impossible to move without pushing and brushing through the multitude of young people writhing to the rhythms. If the streets of this city were its circulatory system then surely this pulsating mass was its heart.

Fredrick took me by the hand and led me to the lower level. He stopped in a relatively empty spot and began dancing. I took brief stock of the masses and copied the hip-swaying quick step that I saw the other girls doing. It wasn't the ballet that mother or Auntie Alice taught me but it was graceful in its own rat-a-tat-tat kind of way.

He put one arm across my waist and grabbed my hand with the other. We circled and stepped, pulling in and moving out from each other with sure, swift treads. But then he spun me into his side and began dancing in a very different way. A deeply disturbing way.

I froze up when I recognized the way he was moving against me was very similar to what I had done once upon a time to Jake.

And then a voice asked to cut in and saved me.

* * *

**Endnote**: Dun-dun-dunnnnnnnn.

"_El vuelo cinco cuarenta y tres a San Carlos de Bariloche está abordando en la puerta eme-seis ahora."- "_Flight 543 to San Carlos de Bariloche is now boarding at gate M6."

_Quizá porque mi tía no puede hablar español. - _Perhaps because my aunt can't speak Spanish.

_Arroz con bistec -_steak and rice

_Pastelitos-_pastries

_esparate, estoy bien-_stop, I'm fine

_Lo siento_," -I'm sorry,

_Gracias por su ayuda-_thanks for your help

_Por nada-_it was nothing

_Soy dieciocho solamente-_I'm only 18

_No te preocupes-_don't worry

_¿Quieres bailar?-_you want to dance_?_


	8. Wo Bist Du

**A/N:** As much as I would like to cop out, the storyline necessitates that I do this. Sorry :( I'll make these as short as I can, promise.

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Sunday Morning

My head throbbed and I stuffed it under the pillow to block them out and go back to sleep. Not that it did any good.

"It's a Sunday," The doctor sounded tired, "the banks are closed. I can't get you that much until tomorrow."

"She already has at least four hours on us and you want to give her_ twenty four_ more?"

"I know, Edward. I'm sorry but I don't keep that kind of cash on hand. And even if I hit the withdrawal limit of every ATM in town it wouldn't be a quarter of what you're asking."

"Can't we just go without it," Bella pleaded, "have Carlisle wire it to us when we get there??"

"We have to book a separate plane from Buenos Aires instead of flying directly because it's the only international airport in the country. Between the two flights, it's almost two thousand per person. That's close to six just to get there."

"And we'll need a room for at least a couple of days." Alice sounded sad, "It's going to be sunny all week."

I turn over to look at them and regret it. Moving makes my brain roll and I feel nauseous.

"What the hell are you yelling about?" I moan.

"Stay out of this, _whelp_."

That's right, I hate him. I can't believe I forgot that.

I smell Esme making eggs and decide I might as well get up. But when I try to raise myself off the makeshift examining table, the room spins and I fall back onto it.

"Cheater," I mumble face down into the delicate white sheets. And then I remember why I'm here. "Where's Nessie? I need to talk to her."

The leech snarls at me and storms out.

"Bells," I plead, "Please, I have to see her."

She seems torn about whether or not to follow him out and looks to Alice who shakes her head slowly in return.

"I'm sorry, Jake," she whispers.

I drag myself into a seated position to look at her. "C'mon, Bella, you know this isn't fair. Look at me," I motion to myself, "I can't do anything like this. You don't even have to leave the room."

Her lip trembles but she doesn't answer.

"_Please_," I'm begging now, "I _need_ to see her. It's been weeks, I'm dying here."

"I can't give you what I don't have," she shakes her head and trembles.

"What?" I don't follow.

"She's gone, Jake." The doctor pinches the bridge of his nose and doesn't look at me as he speaks.

"What?!" No, she can't be… The room spins and my head swirls.

"She ran away," he clarified.

"WHAT?!" I'm on my feet before I can think about it. And, as the world blurs red around me, thinking is the last thing on my mind. I grab a hold of the first thing I lay a hand on and feel it explode within my fist as I shift.

* * *

I sat glaring at Jasper willing him to drop his hold on me. Waiting with every fiber of my being. I fantasize about ripping his face off, feeling it shred beneath my claws. But I'm not angry. Not right now anyway.

And that's why I want him first, I want to be able to _enjoy_ taking out the rest. The big one would be next. And then Blondie. If the other two get in the way then both of them as well. I don't care.

And then I'll find _Edward _and I will enjoy every single moment of tearing him apart, piece by piece. I'll even let him reassemble a few times just so I can do it over and over again. I feel my mouth flood in excitement and I snarl at Jasper.

And then I feel calmer. Just a little. Just enough to keep me from breaking out of my bindings to reach over and smash his face into the table.

The big one grunts behind me, "You don't look so good, man. Why don't we just have Carlisle knock him out?"

"It's bad for his head injury," he speaks through gritted teeth that I imagine punching through.

The big oaf smiles proudly in response and I picture myself upper-cutting his jaw closed, his leech fangs slicing off his tongue.

The smell of them is making me sick. I want to burn this place to the ground. I want to howl over their charred remains. I can feel my body ache for the change. I flex my wrists impatiently against the ropes and fantasize half-rabid about my killing spree.

"Maybe a mild sedative wouldn't hurt."

* * *

"It's only a matter of time before Leah comes looking for me."

Jasper and Emmet trade a look but otherwise don't respond, trying to watch the TV.

"Or Quil. Or Billy." I smirk coldly at them. "Or Sam. Unless you're willing to kill me you're going to run out of time soon. And your buddy isn't even here to protect you."

"I don't need him to take you down." Emmet starts to get up but Jasper grabs his arm.

"Ignore him," his tone is light but his eyes are dark, "he's not moving." They both turn back to the screen.

I spit at them but miss.

"Watch it, dog." I forgot Blondie was here. I gnash my teeth at her but she doesn't even look at me.

"Why did the blonde fail her driving test?"

Her face scrunches up but she doesn't answer.

"Because every time the car stopped she jumped in the backseat."

She hisses at me and chucks a vase that I easily duck even though I'm tied to the chair.

"Temper, temper." I taunt her.

"You -"

"Rose," Jasper glares at her, "If you can't handle it just leave the room."

She snarls and takes the big one with her, huffing out of the room like the spoiled brat she is. She's always been jealous that Nessie loves _me_ more.

Nessie. I feel a slice of sadness at the thought of her. I can't believe that she just left. And to Argentina of all places. I know it has to be their faults. They had to be telling her the same twisted lies they told me. Why else would she just leave like that?

Unless Leah…

I had to get out of here. I needed to find Nessie. For all I knew the three of them weren't even going to bring her back here. Just fly straight to their new home and have the others sneak out to meet them once they released me.

Not that it'd do them any good. We have eternity; I'll pick apart the haystack if I have to. She's _mine_.

I feel a rumble and realize I'm growling. Jasper makes a pained face but it doesn't stop. I concentrate on it, feeling the heat of my anger. I try to pull it to the surface, to use it to trigger the change. I concentrate so hard that I start sweating. I feel the rope becoming slippery and start pulling against it.

It chafes my wrists but I don't stop. I'll cut through it with my bones if I have to, like a wild animal in a trap biting off its own leg.

And then the doctor's jabbing a needle in my neck and I can't feel my wrists anymore.

"What is that?" I can't make out who's talking but I don't think it's me.

"Horse tranquilizer."

Everything zooms out and even though I can hear voices I can't see the room or people in front of me. All I can see is my lap and it looks so far away.

"He's right; we can't keep him tied up like this. Someone will come, it's already been over a day. They might consider this a violation of the treaty." There was a sigh and he continued, "The plane left hours ago, they're long gone."

"I've never felt him rage like this before."

"You can't blame him."

"I don't. But it is still a fact that he _will_ attack again. Especially if he finds out what she's looking for."

I stash that away for when I have a chance to think clearly.

"I hate to say it but Edward should have expected something like this. I never approved of him holding her hostage either."

"Trust me, if you could feel what the two of them do then you wouldn't want them feeling it either."

"But whose decision should that be?"

"Right now I don't think we have a choice, Carlisle."

"There's always a choice."

* * *

I must have slept because the sound of the phone ringing wakes me and it's now dark out.

"Hello? Edward! Did you- What? No. No, he's right here... Yes. Because I'm looking at him... What? Gone just like that? Let me talk to her... I'm telling you, he's right here, he hasn't been out of my sight once…. I have no idea."

"Hey," Jasper's voice goes soft, "How are you feeling? How's your head? I don't know, we haven't heard from any of them. No one's come looking yet... No. Carlisle has him on something strong…… So you're just going to head there instead?… Okay. Okay, I love you."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, Edward. It only really worked for four months out of the past seventy five, perhaps it was presumptuous to think it was permanent.. Okay. Yeah, _okay_. Bye." He hung up but stood there a while, staring at me and stroking his chin.

"You're not my type," I try to sneer but it comes out a slur.

He shakes his head and goes back to his book. Something must be up if leech-boy is calling to check in on me. Too bad I had nothing else to go on.

I turn my wrists to ease the stinging and I feel the rope slip. The leftover drugs in my system make it hard and slow but I work the loop down over my hands.

For a half second I think about using it to gag him, using it to control his head as I rip him apart with my other hand. But my anger was off in the distance somewhere and it was plainly a bad idea to risk the time on him. Probably bite through it anyway.

I got up as slowly as I could, trying to keep control of each muscle as my weight shifted, and managed to do it quietly. I moved backward until I grazed the wall and then followed it to the door, remembering my breathing and keeping both eyes on him. I closed the door as softly as I could and then ran for all I was worth.

* * *

**Endnote:** At least **lily**, **razzle**,and **Bellita **should be pleased.

I tried to keep him Alpha-ed up for Lalage, which I had actually intended to do anyway but it's nice to be validated. And I _tried _to dumb him down for **WaK**. I _think _I might have improved a little but it's hard to see things when you're too close to them.

And thank you **Mindy **and **medicating **for the support. :)

**Edit:** Confused? You should be because he is. But to clarify one thing; Edward, Bella, and Alice left to find her. Jasper's the the _only_ side of the conversation that Jacob hears.

* * *


	9. Que Te Pica

**A/N:** Updates are going to be slow for a bit, I've got 2 midterms and a paper coming up. _Trust me_, I don't like it any better than you do.

Thanks to **Mindy**, for laughing at Jacob's joke, to Lalage because I was proud of that line too, to **Lil** and only for jumping in, and to **lily**, **razzle**, **Jutey**, **Medicating**, **Bellita**, **Chrissy** and **WaK** for hanging in there. Y'all are too great for words.

* * *

_Renesemee_

* * *

Monday Night

Fredrick was rather pleased with the interruption and it was obvious why. She was my height but where I was lithe and long-muscled she was voluptuous and strong with full hips and a tapering waist. Where I was pale with brown eyes, her skin was a creamy mocha and she had startlingly emerald, felid eyes. All topped off with a plump red mouth like a maraschino.

But the most beautiful thing about her by far was her timing. I immediately scrambled out of his grasp and he barely reacted to me as he reached for her hand.

"Not you," she spoke in richly-accented English, "her." She turned to me smiling and I didn't hesitate to take her proffered hand and escape into the mob with her.

She placed my palm on her shoulder and winked at Fredrick as she led me away across the crowded floor. Her gait was strange; her thighs were so thickly muscled that she had to cock her hips out to get them around each other as she walked. When we reached the center she put my other hand on her other shoulder and grabbed my waist.

We started off slow with a basic merengue at an easy pace as I adjusted to mimicking her moves. But as I became accustomed to the patterns, the vibration of the bass within my core shifted. It began flowing outward to each of my limbs and I found myself moving in perfect tempo without paying it the slightest conscious attention. Bouncing and shaking when the beat was quick, swaying and rolling when it mellowed.

With my purely classical training I would have never imagined that I would be able to move like this, let alone enjoy it. But it was such a relief to just stop thinking and let my body guide me.

"_No pare! Sigue! Sigue! No pare! Sigue! Sigue!_"

By the end of the eighth song we were both breathing audibly but we grinned widely at each other whenever our eyes met. She tossed her head flipping her long dark hair and I suddenly realized that we had drawn an audience.

But as soon as I began to feel anxious she twirled me around her and I was sucked back into the beat. We locked gazes and I stared into her completely absorbed, I knew our bodies were performing complicated movements below us but I didn't see any of it. In perfect unison our lips curled into knowing smiles and I felt a connection to her like I never could have imagined existed.

Then she slung me into a deep dip as the song ended and smirked over me eyes alight, only slightly winded. She pulled me back up but kept hold of my hand.

"Let's get something to drink," she leaned in to speak so I could hear her over the cheers.

I nodded and gripped her hand tighter as she drew me up the stairs behind her. Once we reached the bar area she started laughing.

"I saw how that guy was and I _had_ to step in," she smiled as she relinquished her hold on me.

Oh. Just when I thought I had made a friend it turned out that I was a charity case. It didn't matter though, she was my savior and I was forever grateful for it. I gave her a polite smile and thanked her before I turned to leave.

"Wait a second," she stopped me with her arm, "I thought you were buying me a drink to show your gratitude."

"Oh," I recovered slightly chastened, "What would you like?"

"Come on," she smiled and took my hand again to steer me to the counter.

* * *

Maya was bent over with laughter, a hand braced against my knee to keep herself upright, her dark lager spilling over in the other. I was in no better shape, clutching my sides trying to catch my breath.

I steadied myself and took another long pull of my wine. It wasn't half bad now that I had grown accustomed to the taste. And the club appeared more and more interesting with each sip. I couldn't remember the story she had just told me but it had been hilarious.

Fuzzily I mused that alcohol wasn't at all like I had pictured it being. It felt so warm and filling as it spread down my throat and through my insides. It awakened my desire for Jake but the longing was muted, covered by all the other pleasant feelings shifting lazily from one moment to the next.

The company was exceedingly enjoyable as well. If I didn't feel so comfortable with her, I might have been disturbed by how attuned we were to each other. I found myself shifting to complement her shifting without even noticing that she had moved. Every time I inexplicably fidgeted I would look up to find she had as well. I didn't even consciously notice when she changed between Spanish and English until I heard myself switch to accommodate it as I answered.

It was like I had known her for years, more years than I had even lived yet. Even though she was constantly touching me I felt none of the creepiness that Fredrick gave off. This girl's energy was familiar and inviting and I found myself leaning into the contact.

"_Ah, allí estais_." Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

I can feel my good mood crashing as I look up at Fredrick holding his head high like he owns the two of us and am overcome with resentment like I had never felt before. I wasn't really all that familiar with feeling resentful at all.

It gave me a second's pause but Maya jumped right in and told him where to go as she hopped up and grabbed my wrist to pull me along out the door like a child with a toy.

Not that I didn't appreciate it but now it was just going to be all that worse when he cornered me again.

"Where are you staying?" She swung to face me, eyes glittering in the multitude of lights lining the streets.

"Uh, the Marco Polo Inn."

"_¿Dónde?"_ She led me to a corner and hailed a taxi. "_Vamos a consigue sus cosas."_

"_¿Qué dijo?"_ I asked confused.

"That place is a dump, I have plenty of room." She turned to the driver, "_Llévenos al Marco Polo_."

We parted in the lobby of the hostel; she went to collect my bag while I checked out. It wasn't until she was out of sight with my key and room number that it crossed my mind that I really didn't know this girl at all. She might have gotten me drunk so she could take advantage of me, she could be taking everything right now; not just my clothes but my money and papers. Without them I could never go home on my own. I'd be stuck here.

Even through the fog of intoxication this was a grounding thought. But as I rushed to finish the paperwork so I could go check she rounded the corner with my bag slung over her shoulder and smiling. I took it from her, running my hand over the pocket and felt guilty as the edges of the fat envelope poked through to my fingers.

When she looped arms with me to lead me back to the cab I felt instantly better as her warmth returned to my side. It put me completely at ease again. It reminded me of Jake, of when we could touch casually like this, before there was any awkwardness.

"_El Nido Del Cóndor_," she directed the cabbie, "_por favor_."

It was a spectacularly beautiful resort, rich brown paneled wood spilling red, orange, and yellow light onto the mirrored lake and striking a warm contrast to the dark of the evening. The hotel was built into the side of the hill and as I stood in the chill of the night waiting for her to pay the driver I was dumbstruck by how many stars I could see dotting the inky sky above where the resort towered into it. It was so unbelievably clear that it was like seeing the heavens for the very first time. I felt like I was peering into the Milky Way from the infinity of time.

There was a lifting in my chest, a ballooning of excitement and possibility. The sensual experience of this town was overwhelming and it kept catching me off-guard and sweeping me up into the enchantment of it all.

My glass and a half of wine was already starting to metabolize but the wonderful comfort of it remained, nestled contently in my chest. I hadn't felt this at peace since before I found out about mother and Jake. And, as Maya took my hand to lead me inside, it didn't even make me wince to think of that, to think of them.

Her "junior suite" was at least twice the size that my room had been. The ceiling came to a peak high above and there was a huge window overlooking the lake. In front of it were several chairs and a moderately sized television. A cozy stone fireplace was nestled in the far corner and separated the bedroom from the kitchenette.

Topped off with a king size bed, it was easily accommodations for two people. Maya tossed her shoes off and flopped face down onto the comforter sighing in satisfaction.

"Those heels were _not_ made for walking," she mumbled before rolling herself up in the blanket. She gave me a toothy smile from within her cocoon. "_Sientate_."

I was still taking in the room; it was easily in the 200 a night range even though it was the off-season. If one were to examine the situation, just given the obvious traits, then logically she should be more worried about me robbing her. Unless that's how she was paying for the room in the first place; her and Fred in on it together, icing tourists like in that slasher movie Jake got me.

"So," I made a big show of looking around, "you rich or something?" I had told her I was a traveling student and it seemed to be well within that role to remark on such a thing, especially given that she had seen my tiny room at the hostel.

"I am now," she said sitting up but looking down. "I came into money when my_ mama _died. I have been traveling ever since."

"Oh," if I hadn't felt so bad for her I might have been embarrassed. I couldn't imagine losing one of my parents and I found myself taking selfish solace in their immortality.

"It has been a while now, almost a year," her gaze grew reminiscent, "I have just been moving slowly south from our home in La Venta. I haven't been in the house since she died, I just left. My mother was from Colombia and she told me many times the story of her journey from there."

She lit up a hand-rolled flavored cigarette; it had a fruity fragrance fused with the spicy scent of the tobacco. Then she took a few big puffs to get it going and scooted to one side of the bed motioning for me to join her. After bringing it up I felt bad not to, so I went. But the smoke gave me an odd headache as I listened to her melodic voice.

"My mother was born in the rainforest, she was _una indígena_. She was a very clever girl but Tukano women do not have equality. The men have all the power. Only men can participate in the rituals. My mother wanted to see the sacred visions too but they told her it was not the way for a girl to behave and they made her sit in the back of _la maloca_ with the other women when they had their ceremonies."

"But then one night she had a vision in her sleep. A jaguar spirit, a _yoshi_, came to her in her sleep and he told her he could grant her wishes if she would follow him to his lair. He told her she would be a _yai_, a shaman, if she trusted him. He promised he would teach her to make _ayahuasca_, the sacred drink. When he ran, she followed him. For a long time they ran and then finally the jaguar ran up a tree and lay down. Where his tail hung off of the branch it turned into the Fruit of Knowledge and when she ate it she knew where his treasure was."

"The next day she was gathering roots in the forest and saw a jaguar eating the sacred vine, the _gahpí_. They watched each other until he was done and when he turned and walked away she followed. He led her north for many days until one day when she awoke he was gone. He had brought her to the edge of the forest."

"She just kept going in the same direction until she came to a small Colombian town where she got work cleaning for very little. But she saved all her money and when she had enough she went north again. For many months she did that, working until she had enough to move to the next town."

"But when she reached Costa Rica she could go no further. There was a very bloody civil war in Nicaragua and the borders were too dangerous. No one would take her across. She swept the floors in a bar by a port on the Pacific and saved and saved but no matter how much she had, no one would help her."

"Then one day a captain came to the bar and he was very handsome. He said he would take her in his shrimp boat past Nicaragua, up the coast to El Salvador. They spent many days on the ocean before he left her in San Salvador to continue on her journey."

"When she crossed into Guatemala, she came to a forest of trees and hanging from every branch was the tail of the jaguar, a fuzzy yellow pod filled with fruit. She ran to the edge of the woods and there in the distance she saw a cave. When she looked inside there were carvings of the Jaguar. It was an ancient Mayan site of worship and it was full of golden statues and totems. It was a huge archaeological find, men came from all over to study it."

She smiled at me a little shyly, "That is why she named me Maya when she settled in Mexico and found out she was pregnant with me. To thank the spirits that brought her freedom and riches and a daughter."

I didn't know what to say to that but I could see she felt exposed and was looking for reassurance, so I pet her hand and smiled back. Immediately her face brightened and she squealed before jumping off the bed.

"I almost forgot," she fairly skipped to the kitchenette and came back baring chocolate, "I was down on _calle Mitre_ _ayer_. You _have_ to try the dark."

She pulled out a dull knife and cut herself off a chunk before offering me a piece. It was positively sinful; so rich and velvety that it was like eating chocolate for the first time. We sat like that awhile, giggling with sugar highs and tipsiness, whittling the candy bar away between us.

"¡_Ay_!"

I didn't even have to look up, I could smell the blood.

It mingled seductively with the aroma of chocolate in the air like the Sword of Damocles. My throat burned and I was assaulted with sensations of her physiology; her breathing, her heart rate, her scent. I felt like I could taste her on the air like a snake would.

And then I was tasting her. My hand had struck out of its own accord and brought her finger to my mouth. Not only did her energy remind me of Jake, but now her flavor as well. I thought of the last time I had drunk of him, feeling the warmth spread through me like wine.

"Whoa," she snatched her hand back, "I like you but not like that. I did not mean to confuse you."

I didn't know which to feel worse about, drinking her blood or her thinking I was hitting on her. I burned with mortification but she grabbed my arm before I could extract myself from the bed.

"It is not a big deal," she soothed me, "lots of people make that mistake." She grinned and stuck out her tongue revealing a silver ball piercing. "I am just one of those girls," she winked theatrically and covered her mouth as she giggled impishly.

I forced a nervous laugh but she had already moved on.

"So ever since she died," she said taking another mouthful of chocolate, "I have been traveling south, I wanted to follow her footsteps back to where she came from, to see the places from her stories."

She swallowed and then sighed deeply, "But I did not stop when I reached the _Rio Vaupes_. I felt like I was still had not found her so I kept moving downward through the Amazon."

She turned straight-faced to me, "There are legends about the monsters there, _diablos_. I saw some things that I do not think I will ever be sure what they were." Her whole quad moved as she flexed her leg. "It was quite an adventure," she smiled enigmatically.

"And now here I am in Patagonia and soon I will be out of land. And Antarctica is too cold." She emphasized the point by grabbing my hand and miming a shiver.

"Did your mother ever become a _yai_?"

I felt something very strange run through my stomach and she retracted her hand to scratch the back of her head with it.

"Uh, a little bit maybe," she seemed to be groping for words, "It is a different culture in Mexico, they have _curanderos_ and it is not the same thing really. The women healers are more like midwives."

Very unhappily she continued, "That is why she never spent any of her money on herself, it was all to send me to the best schools so I could be whatever I wanted to be." Her face started to cave at the corners, "But I just do not know what that is." The last was barely a whisper, "And I still miss her very much."

I couldn't help it, I hugged her. But I thought about Leah the whole time, remembering the same scene with her, just waiting for Maya to shove me off.

We embraced in silence for a long beat and then Maya asked, "Was she your girlfriend?"

"What?"

"That naked girl, _la puta_."

* * *

**Endnote: **"I had the taste of blood and chocolate in my mouth, the one as hateful as the other." Hermann Hesse

**Now with multimedia, check profile for links.**

_No pare!- _Don't stop!

_Sigue!- _Get it!

_allí estais -_there you are

_¿Dónde?- _Where?

_Vamos a consigue sus cosas – _Let's go get your things

_¿Qué dijo?_- What did you say?

_Llévenos al Marco Polo_- Take us to the Marco Polo

_El Nido Del Cóndor _– The Nest of the Condor

_por favor _- please

_Sientate - _Sit

_una indígena – _an Indian (Native American)

_la maloca _– (this is a Tukano word) a long house, a communal living building

_calle Mitre_ _ayer _– Mitre Street yesterday


	10. Pain

**A/N:** Another Jacob one, only should be happy.

I'm glad the last chapter got a warm reception, a lot of work went into it.

**WaK** and Lalage, the story she tells is original but borrows heavily from Latin American mythology. This abridged version is primarily a brief overview of some Tukano beliefs and just a hint of Mayan. Tukano is the language she's speaking when she translates terms.

**Mindy**, I'm so glad you liked her. Much of her personality was strongly influenced by some of my closest friends so I'm rather fond of her myself.

**razzle**, I'm glad you're enjoying the ride, I like keeping it unexpected. ;)

**Bellita**, I was actually trying to borrow a page from Ms. Meyer with the tone I used in the incidents with Maya and Fredrick because I'd gotten the distinct impression that she used the issue of Edward biting Bella as a metaphor for deflowering her and vice-versa; a sensuous versus innocence dichotomy of vampirism that I noticed particularly in Eclipse. But I digress.

Oh, and a heartfelt shout-out to **Jutey**, **Medicating**, and **lily** for sticking around and to **Jenna** for stopping by. :D

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Monday Night

I stumbled a lot at first and even fell once when I hit a root. But I phased without thinking about it once I was about twenty yards into the woods so his range must end about there. I still wasn't anywhere near up to full speed; I was in second gear at most but at least I didn't have anymore trouble steering.

_Jake? I'm sorry, I just –_

_Meet me. Now._ At least I wouldn't have to hunt her down.

_Where have you been? _Quil joined in.

_What did you say to her, Leah?_

Silence.

_ANSWER! _It was less a command than a roar.

Then I saw it. And I thought that I was mad _before_. I wanted to tear her apart for speaking like that to Nessie. Especially the true parts.

I was almost as mad at myself as I was at her. So much changed when Nessie was born that I'd instantly forgotten how it used to be. Until now.

The suckiest thing about seeing it was that I saw it exactly as Leah had. I saw that she thought she was protecting me from getting hurt again. That she had been hurting too.

And, being in her head like this, I could feel just how bad she felt about it.

_I am _so _sorry._

_SILENCE! _I ordered.

I was still extremely pissed but not _nearly_ as much as I wanted to be. Maybe I was still doped up.

They were at the border waiting when I crossed. Leah's tail was literally tucked between her legs and Quil was looking anywhere but at her.

I walked straight up to her and got in her face, nose to nose. Her ears went flat against her skull and her brow twitched back. I glared full force into her eyes until she looked down and tucked her head in surrender. I wished, not for the first time, that she wasn't a girl so I could wallop her a few times upside the head and knock some sense into her.

_I don't know what the hell your problem is but you better lose it, _quick_. You're the Omega until further notice and if you _ever _do _anything _like that again you're back with Sam for good. _Got it_?_

She nodded and whimpered pathetically.

_When does Seth start Winter Break?_

Silence.

_You can answer._

_Uh, a little over three weeks._

_Damn. What happened to taking his finals early?_

_I'm not sure, probably two in that event._

_Too long to wait. _I turned to Quil_. I need you two watching the Crypt for me, I've gotta leave town. _

_What?_ They asked in unison.

I showed them what I remembered of my stay at Castle Dracula.

Their anger was nothing compared to mine but they both still wanted war. Leah even offered to go get Sam and do this right now.

_No, this is personal. Plus, I don't want him trying to take over while I'm gone. I've got to go get Nessie first._

_How? Do you have any idea how big Argentina is?_ Quil demanded.

_No. How big?_

_I don't know__. But it's a whole country, not just one city or something._

Leah groaned _He's an idiot but he's right. You're going to need something more than just the name of the country._

_They said there's only one town you can fly into so that's where I'll start._

_And then?_

_I can't just sit here doing nothing, Leah! _I roared_._ The thought of innocent little Nessie alone in a strange place full of who knows what was killing me.

_From a tactical point of view, _she softened her tone_, it makes more sense to let them get her and then grab her from them. How would you even look for her? They have a mind-reader and a fortune-teller. What do you have?_

_Mange? _Quil volunteered and I low-kicked him so sharply that he yipped like a poodle.

_You're forgetting something very important. Whatever she's looking for is bad. Real bad if Jasper thinks it could make me any madder than I am now._

_Then we need to find out __exactly __where she is before Seth's done._

_Too long. Way way waaaaaaay too long._

_Well, it's not like you can go without him. He's the only advantage you have._

_Don't you _dare _tell me what to do. _I growled_ You're _nowhere _near being out of the dog house._

_She is right though, _Quil defended her.

_Don't you start either, _I bared my teeth at him.

_Look, _he took a submissive tone_, no one said anything about not doing anything. Just not yet._

_What would you do if it was Clary?_

_I get it, man. Believe me I do. And even if I didn't, I __can_ still _ feel you. That's why I know you're not thinking straight. You don't speak Spanish, Jake. Getting pissed off at us isn't going to change that._

Damn him for saying it like that. I don't want to be effing reasonable. I don't want to sit and wait. I don't think I can take anymore of that. I've already waited two months more than I should have.

_So what's two weeks more?_

_Everything. _

But he was right, it would take me much longer than that to try and learn the damn language myself.

I ran through every single obscenity I knew and a few I made up. Then I turned and elbowed right through the nearest tree, sending the top of it crashing to the forest floor. And then I roundhouse kicked through the one next to it, adding it to the pile and scaring Leah and Quil into backing up.

But I was just getting started.

I headbutted a big dent into a spruce then turned and stripped the next tree of its bare branches, flinging them to the side like a wood chipper and then thrashing the bark off with my claws until it bled sap. I wanted so badly to punch something but I couldn't make a fist with claws and was way too pissed to phase back.

I latched onto the thickest tree in sight and just kept swinging my right shin into it like a baseball bat, chopping my way through the middle of the trunk.

It hurt like hell. I could feel knots forming. But it still didn't compare to my real pain. I needed her so bad that I couldn't think of anything else.

_Eff this, I'm going hunting. Leah, watch the Crypt. Get close enough to hear everything but don't let him feel you._

_Ja-_

_NOW!_

She scurried off one way and I took off in another. Maybe I could find a bear to entertain me. A big one. One that would put up a good fight and I could pretend was Emmet.

_Jake? _

I looked back to see Quil was tailing me. I could feel the concern pouring off of him. It just made me angrier.

_No talking. And don't get in my way._

_Sure, Jake. Whatever you say. _

I can feel that he's a little scared of me right now. Good.

* * *

Thursday Night

_Still nothing? _I asked.

_Not a thing. Can I leave?_

_No._

_I promised Clary we'd get pancakes before school and I reek._

_Fine. Go._

_You want me to get Leah?_

_If I have to listen to her right now I'll end up killing one of us. Besides, there's no point in both of us missing work._

_Jake_

_It's not a big deal, I haven't taken a single sick day in four years._

_Nothing has happened for three days. Let it rest for one night._

_What if she calls? What if they find her? What if they try to sneak off before sun up?_

_What if they catch you by yourself and take you hostage again?_

_Then you'll know where to come looking for me._

That shut him up. I couldn't feel him anymore by the time I crossed the border.

I had been trying to avoid taking watch duty myself but there was no way I was going to risk missing something. I was just going to have to find a way to keep my temper in check.

I snorted. Sure, that'll work. I could feel myself getting pissed just knowing that I was going. I was going to have to sit there all by myself, staring at that overgrown coffin for hours, trying not to think about all the reasons I hate them so that Feely-boy won't catch me.

And I couldn't really afford to be taking time off from the shop right now. Not when I had to come up on three grand for the cheapest seats I could find on the cheapest airline I've never heard of. I might just have to sell the Rabbit. I wanted to do that even less than vamp duty but there was no way I could sell the Thunderbird. Especially not now.

I'd run the whole damn way there if I had to. At this rate it might even be faster. I wonder if Seth would go for it, he's always got energy to spare.

All this sitting around waiting was driving me nuts. Why couldn't she have gone somewhere where they speak English?

And what the hell is she looking for? Why would it make me mad? She can't have believed all that crap Leah said about me not needing her. Could she? She had to know how much I loved her. Right?

I've never been so ashamed of myself before and I haven't been this confused since the day she was born and my world became whole. I've never been more sure of anything than needing her. She had to know that. How could she not? I was always there. Always until lately.

And who knows what they told her during that time. My vision blurs with hate.

I fall back into the woods, crossing the line where I phased last time but keeping the house in sight. I'll just have to watch from here for now. Which makes me even madder. Everything was pissing me off. I wanted to decimate everything I could see. I felt like I had caught the Rage virus from that zombie flick.

If it weren't for the fact that I was doing all this for Nessie, I would be tearing down the Crypt right now and gutting the leeches. The thought of her simultaneously stopped me from doing it while making me want to even more.

They didn't deserve her love. Nessie is without a doubt the sweetest girl to ever exist. No one deserved her, not even me. But I simply couldn't live without her.

I knew one thing for sure, I wasn't ever letting anything like this happen again.

I don't care if she wants to move to Argentina, or New Hampshire, or wherever. I'd follow her to the ends of the earth. And probably even beyond that. She'd have to pry me off with a stick when I found her, the rest of them be damned. Probably already were anyway.

The worst part was that I never saw it coming. It never even occurred to me the snake was lying through his fangs. I was so quick to believe that she was mad at me for taking it too far, that she would just cut me off without saying anything to me herself.

And now she was gone, possibly for good, over something I said back when I was a stupid kid.

She's gone and I'm sitting here in the woods watching for her to come home like some kind of stalker instead of charging down there to save her like the hero. It makes me want to clear the forest but I can't even hit anything because I have to worry about getting caught like I'm an effing second-grader or something.

This whole thing sucks, everything, especially the blood-suckers and their stupid powers.

"Good morning, Jacob."

-expletive-!

* * *

**Endnote**: It doesn't let me use stars or at signs or any of the other symbols. Probably precisely because people substitute them for profanity. I wish I could because it looked so much nicer before I uploaded it.


	11. Hey Baby

**A/N**: Chapter title refers to Stephen Marley (link in profile)

And_ todo mis gracias _to** Mindy**, **Med**, Lalage, OAT, **Jenna**, **Chrissy**, **razzle**, **Silence**, **WaK**, **Jutey**, **lily, Bellita, Summer **and **Champ **for reviewing. I'm so glad everyone likes the way Jacob is coming along. I'm actually at a point where I find his chapters easier because there's nothing to look up and I get to try my hand at humor.

* * *

_Renesemee_

* * *

Monday Night

I froze up in shock. I wanted to jump out of her arms but her grip had tightened. If I hadn't been so stuck on what to say I might have wondered why that was.

"_¿La puta?"_ I asked dumbly. I couldn't think of anything other than to repeat what she had just said, like I had spontaneously gone Autistic.

"For real, _carnala_, how could she say something like that. I would have hit her right in her fat mouth." She rubbed my back and pet my hair as she spoke. She was acting like Leah was the most important part of what was happening.

"Oh. Is this your first time?" I could hear the smile in her voice.

That's when I started trying to get free. I grabbed her arms and began prying them off.

"_Cálmate_." She held me at arm's length with both hands and looked into my eyes, "_Todo esta bien_. You have to stop freaking out over everything if we are going to be hanging out."

"What on earth are you talking about? Who are you?"

"I am your friend. _Escúchame,_ this does not happen to me much, I have not connected with someone like this since my _mama_ died. I think you are what I have been looking for."

"For what?! Let go of me!" I was getting mad, she didn't know the first thing about me. How could you say things like that to a total stranger, she didn't even know my name.

"Yes, I do, Nessie."

"Stop that!" I shoved her off of me and hopped to the chair to grab my bag. But she popped off the bed and was between me and the door, guarding it like a _Copa Mundial _goalie, before I could turn back around.

"Please, just hear me out. I am not going to hurt you."

I snorted at that and turned my sights to the floor-to-ceiling window.

"It would be bad for both of us if you did that."

I leveled a glare at her. "If you think I'm just going to lay down and be your victim then you have another thing coming."

"I promise, I mean you no harm. I am not a bad person and you're very important to me. We were drawn to each other for a reason. We can help each other."

"What do you want from me?"

"Just to keep you company. I have lost my way and I know you can help me find it."

I laughed mirthlessly. "Are you kidding me? I have no idea what I'm doing much less where I'm going. I came here looking too. You don't want to follow me."

"But I do. We are alike, you and I. That is why we connect. That is why you are here."

That made me frown.

I wasn't about to tell her the truth about myself but it was obvious that she thought I was some sort of magical savior when it was just my inconveniently dysfunctional powers. Now I _was_ starting to freak out. I wracked my brain for all the disorders that had delusions as a diagnostic criteria but there were just too many and I hadn't noticed any other symptoms. A year was much too long to still be in the grief stages of loss.

What was I going to do? She was planted in my way, I didn't want to fight her but going out the window from this high up would likely draw more attention.

Before I could decide, she tackled me to the floor, hugging me around the middle. I tried to right myself but she straddled my waist, pinning my arms to the carpet with her knees. I thrashed in earnest but, aside from her huge thighs rippling, she was immovable. She lent over, taking my face in her hands, and pressed her forehead to mine.

"You need me."

"Are you joking?" I tried to turn my head away but she held it still. A girl of her dimensions should not be this strong.

"I can teach you to use it."

"What?"

"You obviously have no idea how to use it, just talking your thoughts everywhere. You need to learn to quiet your inner voice because you're going to miss things that are important."

What?

"You keep projecting. You are like a person that speaks without thinking, everything just comes right out."

"It wouldn't if you'd stop touching me."

"_Oh? Claro. __That is interesting_."

"Get off me right now or you're losing your deposit."

"Okay. But no running off." She let go of my face and grabbed my arms, holding them down as she unbent her legs. Then she stepped to the side and let me go.

I got up slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements. She was unnaturally strong and I didn't have a chance facing her head on. When I eyed the door behind her, she smiled confidently and crossed her arms.

"We were having fun, I do not know why you want to go _loco _over nothing. It is not like I asked you to show me anything."

She was right. If I had been in control of myself she wouldn't have seen anything. And, given that she knew my name, I must have been doing it quite a bit. It could probably be correlated directly to the alcohol consumption.

I didn't even make it through one night here without messing up. I sat slumped in one of the chairs and hugged my backpack not saying anything.

"You need to lighten up. Stop moping. This is going to be fun."

I bury my face in the top of my bag and try reasoning with her, "If you don't even know how my power works, how are you going to teach me anything?'

"Because I have been listening to how you think. How it gets in the way. Do you remember when we were dancing?"

That got me to look up.

"Your problem is when you use too much of this," she tapped my left temple, "and not enough of this," she poked me below the left clavicle.

"Last time I listened to that it was torn apart." Jake's face flashes behind my eyes as I rub the spot over my heart.

"That is sad but it happens. That is life. If you drop a ball do you cut off your hand?"

I sigh deeply and bury my head again unimpressed with her folksy colloquialism.

"_Es tarde_. We need to be up early _mañana_ to start your training. I need some things before we leave for the park."

"The park?" What ironic serendipity, maybe I wouldn't run away while she was sleeping after all.

"_Sí_. The first lesson is to master your body. You need a strong foundation."

* * *

Tuesday

"_Desayuno_!" she called kicking open the door much too early, carrying a tray of _espresso_ and _media lunas con dulce de leche_.

And she was annoyingly cheerful. I had never been much of a morning person and with my brain throbbing hot as an iron against my skull and the backs of my eyes it was all the worse. Never again.

Normally I was never grumpy and it was an upsetting change. I took my coffee and a croissant_, _trying to discard my bad mood and be thankful. It helped that the food was good, buttery with a sweet caramel toffee spread, and I gladly accepted a second when she handed it to me.

"You should eat up, you will need it."

I eyed her warily. Though I was still far from okay with this arrangement I didn't see any options available beside tucking tail for home. The only logical strategy was to work this to my advantage; have her get me into the park and then lose her in the trees. The park was over 7000 square kilometers; there would be plenty of room to get away once we were inside.

She was already getting sloppy, leaving me alone to get food and having her back to me as I ate. Or maybe I just wasn't much of a threat to her. A tiny part of me wanted to bite her to prove that I wasn't such a pushover but I knew it would cost me in the end, the guilt alone, so I finished my breakfast and got ready.

When I emerged from the bathroom she was zipping up a grey hiker's pack that was bigger than she was. Hopefully it would keep her weighed down when it came time for me to run out on her.

"Here," she tossed me a pair of brown slip-resistant boots, "those sneakers are baby toys, you need real shoes."

Auntie Alice would never let me hear the end of it if she saw me wearing these things, as practical as they were. I couldn't help a smile when I thought of her which Maya misinterpreted as acquiescence.

"I knew you would feel better in the morning. You came for adventure, right?"

I moved my head ambiguously, not wanting to deign her with an answer. Though I tried to look at it from a positive stance, she was after all still a _huge_ step up from Fred, I still didn't trust her. But at least she was giving me a personal bubble of space, no more random touching.

The past three months had taught me to value my privacy. So I appreciated that she had backed off. At least until she put on my backpack and handed me the big one.

"Upper body and core strengthening," she smiled brightly at me.

* * *

The park extended westward to the Andes and the lake system ran almost the entire length of the distance so we followed its southern bank. It was brilliantly sunny but the wind was cold, more than enough to keep me from sweating as I struggled with the uneven terrain.

The path sloped and dipped this way and that and I had my toes spread eagle inside the thick boots constantly trying to purchase some balance. They throbbed by the time we reached the Llao Llao resort.

I was happy just to sit and have a late lunch. And I regretted everything disparaging I had ever thought about Fredrick's hiking stories. Both of my calves were twitching uncontrollably and, once I set the enormous bag down, my shoulders drooped so listlessly they bowed my posture.

Maya was just as sunny as ever, acting like we were the best of friends. But when she brushed my hand accidentally while reaching for the check, she immediately latched onto my wrist.

"_¿Que le pasa, mijita?"_

"Don't call me that and don't touch me."

"I thought we were past this."

"Why should I trust you when you're hiding something?"

"Like you were not planning on ditching me," she patted the strap of my backpack on her shoulder as she hoisted it back on and pulled me up out of my chair. "Think of it as a business arrangement, no reason not to be courteous."

"This is hardly symbiotic, I'm doing all the work." I yanked my hand from her grasp.

"That is what training is," she shrugged, "muscle must be torn to grow."

How uncharacteristically profound.

I tried looking at every footfall like it was another step towards a goal. It infused each effort with purpose and I dug in with a second wind once we were back outside.

Soon I found myself enjoying the rich scenery that I had been missing by keeping my head down, eyes where I was stepping.

With my head up I could see the impossible blue hues of the glacier-fed lake reflecting the clear cold sky, the beautifully red flowers of the _notro_ mixed in with the orange-flowered _mutisia_ and lilac-flowered _virreina_ vines creeping over the valleys of yellow _amancay_ to the line of snow-capped mountains that stretched across the horizon. It was like climbing through the palette of some divine painter.

Maya sang reggaetón songs softly to herself as she led the way looking like this was something that she had done every day of her life. It upset me a little to see a human no bigger than I having such an easy time of this. If her thighs were anything to go on, steroids and HGH were both possible explanations though I had no intention getting close enough to check for needle marks.

Around twilight I began to realize exactly how big the park really was, we were still nowhere near the mountains and the sun was already dropping behind them. We had long since passed the last _refugio_ and I wondered if some of the weight I carried was tent poles. But once the last purples faded to black in the sky Maya stopped in front of a tree with a bushy blooming top.

"Pay attention," she adjusted my bag and grabbed a fingerhold of the tree. Then she braced the insides of her feet against her weight and scrambled up the trunk like a monkey.

When she smiled down at me from her perch I shot her a doubtful look.

"_Carnalita_, the name of this park means 'Tiger' Island do you think it is wise to sleep on the ground?"

I attempted to grab the tree like she had but when I tried putting weight on my feet they kept slipping off. Eventually bark started pealing away and she told me to stop.

"_Ay_ _mijita_," she taunted from her branch, "do you want me to come and carry you? You can sleep with _mamí_."

Instead of answering I leapt at the tree and gripped it between my thighs English equestrian-style. I dug my fingers in like claws and curled my pelvis under, swinging my knees up to grab higher and then slowly haul myself up. My back arched and straightened like an inchworm as I made my way up the side of the _Maitén _tree. It took a minute or two but eventually I reached the lowest branch and could pull myself up with my arms the rest of the way.

"That was creative," she smiled, "Good first day."

She leaned over and motioned for the pack which I gladly relinquished. She pulled out a couple paper-wrapped _tostadas_ and some aloe. I gladly accepted a sandwich and some salve, settling myself on my own branch and propping my back against the trunk so I could sit steadily. When she finished eating she extracted some rope and a knife then cut off two roughly equal lengths which she used to secure the bags to the branch she was on.

"Now the only safe way to sleep in a tree is like this." As she spoke, she slowly lowered her stomach to the branch. Her arms dangled on either side and her legs rested against the length of the trunk.

With a wide yawn she turned her head away and slept. I ate slowly and listened to her rumbling snores mixing with the insect sounds reflecting off the lake. The gaps between the flowers and leaves created framed pockets of stars that I watched absently as I chewed.

The lotion was startlingly frigid when I began delicately applying it to my ravaged inner thighs. When I got to my left one I couldn't find my scar amidst the crosswork of scratches and shallow cuts left by the friction of the bark. I realized with a start that this was the first time that I had thought of Jake all day.

And now all I could think of was him. Was he looking at the stars tonight back home? Was he alone? Did he even notice I was gone? But above all else, was he happy? Never have I ever wanted that for anybody more than I did for Jake. I couldn't stand seeing him sad; the mere thought of it was heart-breaking.

My mind wanted to puzzle out all the possible answers, to use the quiet of the night to figure everything out, but I felt sick with worry even thinking about him. What if he still wishes I hadn't been born? What if that's why he didn't come to my birthday this year?

The stomach-wobbling vertigo that accompanied these thoughts made staying on the branch too much effort so I lay on my rebellious belly to quell it and took deep even breaths of the fresh air.

* * *

Wednesday

"If you want to bathe before the tours start then you better do it now."

I peered down at her in the predawn light; she had already built a fire and was frying fish in a tiny cast-iron pan. Wearily I pressed up off the branch and tried to figure out a path of descent.

"I hopped down," she suggested.

"From here?"

"No, from one to the other. Then down."

It wasn't that hard to get to the lowest branch but my stiff legs buckled on the jump to the ground and I landed on my hands and knees.

"_Ay, pobrecita_," she set the pan down and grabbed the waist of my shorts, lifted me one-handed and set me on my feet.

She directed me to stand about half a foot from the trunk with my back to it. "Now lean your hips back until you rest against the tree."

"Cross your arms and lean forward. Take a deep breath, slowly fill the bottom of your lungs, then the middle, then the top. _Bíen_. Now slowly breathe out in reverse. Let gravity draw your elbows down."

It took a minimal number of tries to get the breathing right but as soon as I did it was apparent; I could feel each exhalation lengthening my spine. I was so focused on my lungs that I didn't notice how low I'd gotten until tips of the grass brushed my arms.

"Now lean your back against the tree and curl your toes toward your knees."

I straightened and complied, feeling the tension shift from my hamstrings to my calves when I did so. It felt wonderful. I held the tree for support and did some of the ballet stretches Mom taught me. Maya watched me curiously but didn't say anything until I finished and she handed me my toiletries, some clothes, a canteen, and a small towel.

"Please fill that while you're down there."

My whole lower body still ached from my abs to the arches of my feet but at least I could move now and I made my way swiftly to the bank. The water was dark and ice cold as I crouched ankle deep, splashing myself as efficiently as I could before scrubbing myself dry with what amounted to little more than a washcloth before dressing.

She had already eaten by the time I returned and was breaking up the little fire pit she had dug. When I handed her the flask she doused the remains and kicked dirt over them.

"_Gracias_," she smiled and handed me the pan which still had two small trout fillets in it but no utensils.

When none appeared to be forthcoming I broke the fish into chunks and dined with my fingers. It wasn't Mom or grandma's cooking but it was extremely fresh. I finished quickly and wiped my hands on the towel before accepting the big pack from her.

It was relatively quiet going until late morning when we parted ways with the southwest bank of _Lago Frey_ and entered the foothills.

At the bottom of the first one she stopped and turned, smiling disconcertingly before she sprang at me.

We wrestled until she got control of my back by using one of the straps to restrain me and then tied my hands together behind me like I was being arrested.

"What are you doing? I didn't try anything." I protested.

"Today is balance training," she declared as she tightened her knot. Then she took my shoulders and walked me to where the ground began rising. "You are going up the hills without using your arms."

"You can untie me, I had no intention of crawling."

"You use your arms as counterweights when they are free, you must learn to use your legs for stability." She pushed me towards the incline, "go ahead if you think it is so easy."

I took four steps and fell to my knees.

"_¡Ándale! ¡Ándale!_" she passed right by me carrying both bags and chuckling to herself, "¡_Arriba! ¡Arriba!_"

I struggled to lean my body back enough to get one of my feet under me, only to pitch forward when I tried to rise. Since that approach didn't work I rolled onto my back and tried to pop up like I had seen Jake do many times.

It was nowhere near as easy as he made it look. On my tenth try, I got it.

Falling and getting up was not something I wanted to re-experience, I went exaggeratedly slow the rest of the way up, taking my time to find each foothold and shifting my weight as carefully as possible. Leaning too far forward made me face plant, too far back and I would slip backwards down the slope; every step was an ongoing negotiation with gravity. Maya waited patiently at the top, calling out occasional encouragements that didn't bother me as much as they would have yesterday.

"That was a good first try," she complimented me once I had managed to make it over the hill. "Now try going up this one faster."

Of course it was bigger and the path was choppier. I suppressed a groan and started working my way up, moving fast enough to almost stumble, but slow enough to have her calling out for me to hurry up.

By the time we stopped my legs were jelly but I managed to run up the last face almost as fast as she walked it.

"_Excellente_," she praised me untying my wrists and handing me a bottle of water, "but that is enough for now."

After catching my breath I chugged until my throat hurt before using the rest to wash my hands and knees. It had to be past noon but I wasn't fully accommodated to the sun's path at this latitude and couldn't make a more accurate guess of the time.

But when she handed me a granola bar and a handful of strawberries it became apparent that this was the lunchbreak. As grateful as I was for food, I hoped that this wasn't a forbearer of skimpy meals to come, exercise like this demanded protein replacement. Preferably bloody.

She was behind me before I realized she moved; she got the big pack on me and tied my wrists around it. As soon as she let go, the weight of it pulled me backwards and I fell hard on my rear, biting my lip in the process.

The blood it gave me perked me right up though and I sucked it in concentration as I kicked up into a squat and then slowly lifted myself up by wedging my knees against each other. I was halfway down the slope before she had my backpack on.

When the sun dipped low, she cut me free and took her pack back.

"You did such a good job that I am getting us a cabin tonight."

Never had a shower ever felt so good.

When I returned she had a notepad out and was doodling intricate designs on it left handed. She seemed so content and involved that it made me miss my violin; which was odd because I hadn't played it in months. One of my fondest memories was from the day Daddy gave it to me because I had outgrown my child-sized one.

I was still breaking it in when Jake dropped by after work. He didn't say anything at all to me; just laid down with his head in my lap, closed his eyes and hummed along randomly until he fell asleep.

When Plato talks of his Ideals, I picture that night. If I had to pinpoint when I fell irrevocably in love Jacob Black then that was it. I didn't know what the feeling of completion was at the time but it was undeniably obvious now. For a few short hours it was like we were the only thing in existence - that had ever existed, that ever would.

It seemed a world away now, just like him. But there was a distance between us long before I left. I hadn't touched him once since the night of Seth's party.

That memory was still rather fresh, still made my face flush to think of it.

"Why do you keep sighing like that?"

"_Tengo sueño_," I replied and climbed in the bed.

She looked unconvinced but I turned my back to her prying eyes.

I was almost asleep when I felt her brushing out my damp hair. "You should not go to bed with it wet, _mijita_."

I was too tired to get mad at her. And the sensation so strongly invoked Auntie Rosie that I stayed quiet and let her do it. After a bit she started singing softly.

"_Arriba del cielo  
Hicieron tamales_

_Lo supo San Pedro  
Mandóa a traer dos reales_

_Al arrorró niña_

_Al arrorró ya_

_Al arrorró niña_

_Al arrorró ya_

_Duérmete niñita de mi corazón_

_Duérmete niñita que tengo que hacer_

_Lavar tus pañales ponerme a coser_

_Al arrorró niña_

_Al arrorró ya_

_Al arrorró niña_

_Al arrorró ya_

_Duérmete niñita de mi corazón_"

"_Duérmete mijita. Mañana pasaremos__ la Garganta del Diablo _and your real training will begin_."_

* * *

**Endnote**: If anyone's interested there's also a link to a mp3 of the full lullaby under the music links in my profile.

_Carnala – _Mexican slang, it roughly translates to a female version of 'dude'

_Cálmate – _Calm yourself

_Todo esta bien – _It's all good

_Escúchame – _Listen to me

_Copa Mundial – _the World Cup

_Es tarde – _It's late

_Mañana – _means both tomorrow and morning (it was employed here as both)

_Desayuno – _breakfast

_Espresso – _type of strong coffee

_media lunas con dulce de leche- _translates literally to 'half moons with sweet milk' but is more accurately described as "croissants with sweet toffee spread"

_¿Que le pasa, mijita? – _what's wrong, my little one?

_tostadas_ – Argentinean grilled cheese sandwiches

_pobrecita- _poor little girl

_Bíen – _good

_¡Ándale! -_ C'mon!

_¡Arriba!_ – Get up!

_Tengo sueño – _I'm sleepy

_Duérmete mijita. Mañana pasaremos la Garganta del Diablo – _Go to sleep my little one. Tomorrow we pass the Throat of the Devil


	12. If You Could Only See

**A/N**: I don't know if it's my Statistics training or what but I am so totally addicted to the Reader Traffic applet. Especially the Breakdown by Visitor Country graphs. I'm Miami-born and raised (which, JIC you were wondering, is where all the spanish comes from 'cuz I'm whiter than a bottle of ultra-bleach) so I think that it's so cool that this story has an international audience. So, to all my lurkers: 'Que pasa?' 'G'day!' 'Wie gehts?' 'Ça gaze?' 'E aí?' 'Ce faci?' 'Heyello' 'Come stai?' and 'Hello.' :D

_Todo mi amor por siempre_ to my fabulous reviewers, **Bella, Summer, Jenna**, OAT, **Jutey, Mindy, WaK, razzle**, and Evelyn. Y'all always make my day. If it weren't for you I would have used my break yesterday to study instead of writing this.

And props to **lily**, I hope this is more an indication of your intelligence than of my becoming predictable. ;)

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Thursday Night

I eye Carlisle warily, checking his hands for needles. He notices and raises them slowly away from his body, spreading his fingers so I can see they're empty.

"How are you feeling?" His tone is friendly, "Any headaches? Nausea?"

I shake my head at him slowly and he stays back.

"Have you been sleeping well?"

If I could speak I'd tell him that the two full days I spent sleeping in the House of Horrors was more than enough for the week. It really was. I haven't slept since.

Every time I closed my eyes, there she was, her soft face floating in a sea of darkness. After a few minutes I would have to get up and do something. Hunt, run, spar with Quil, anything just to be active, just so I could feel like I was doing something.

Billy about keeled over yesterday when I cleaned the whole house top to bottom.

"You were a danger to yourself and others, so I don't regret my part. But I do regret that it came to that, it wasn't fair."

I nod once and hope that he'll get the message that I'm not going to change to talk to him so he might as well just do whatever he came to. I had liked Doc, and his wife, I had liked all of them, except for Blondie. But at this point I didn't trust any of them.

"I'm sorry, Jacob."

He sounds like he means it but there's something to the way his eyes move that has me on edge and I stare back at him, waiting.

I guess he's figured out I'm not falling for it because he starts rubbing his face and mumbling to himself.

"Just, please, tell her we're sorry, that we just want to talk."

What the hell?

They think I have her? Or is this just some trick to get me to shift?

I scan the trees but I see nothing. I strain my ears but there's no sound other than the wind in the leaves. I want to check behind me but I'm not about to turn my back on the blood-sucker.

He certainly looks pitiful enough though, all out of whack like he's been aging. What if it's the truth? What if they _really_ lost her while I've been sitting here like a chump waiting for them to come through?

She couldn't be… The fortune-teller would have seen that, right?

Damn it. I'm going to drive myself nuts now if I don't talk to him. But not here. Changing back this close to the Crypt is dangerous. I have to take him somewhere else.

I motion with my head for him to follow me and lead him further out into the forest, keeping my senses tuned for signs of an ambush.

I stopped a few hundred yards short of the border without looking once to see if he'd followed. But he was behind me when I turned around. I waved my shorts at him and pointed at some brushy bushes so he'd know to stay put.

He was muttering to himself again when I returned. Folding my arms, I lean against a tree and wait for him to get enough of a grip on himself to notice I'm back. Hopefully he'll let something slip first.

When he finally does look up it's expectant, like he really is looking to me for answers.

"You wanted to talk? So talk." Maybe if I bluff he'll spill.

"We're willing to negotiate; whatever she wants just as long as she talks to us."

"What makes you think I have her?" I sneer.

He squints his eyes at me then looks away, undecided.

"If you're done talking I'm going to change back." I threaten.

"Alice can't see her anymore," he sighs defeated.

What?!

"She's not with you, is she." It wasn't a question, it must have been written all over my face. "I knew that it wasn't likely, but I had to take the chance."

"So now what?" I'd forgive every single one of them in a heartbeat if they had a plan to fix this.

Dr. Acula shakes his head and stays quiet, calculating again. After a few minutes it's apparent he's forgotten about me.

"Well?"

"It just doesn't make any sense, if she were dead" I flinched like a beaten dog when he said it, "then Alice should have seen it."

"What was the last place Alice saw her?"

"They're there right now. No sign of her, no one's seen her."

"And where exactly is there?"

He shifts a look at me and considers something for a few minutes before answering. "I'll give you my word that as soon as I know something, I'll tell you. But only if you promise to do the same."

"If I do, will you answer?" Tell me damn it!

"Try to get more rest, Jacob" he smiled at me and turned back the way we came.

"Fine. My word."

"I'll let you know if I hear anything," he locked eyes with me and nodded once before taking off.

There was no point in going back over there now, not with my cover blown. I might as well try to catch a few hours before I have to go in. Not that I'll be able to sleep.

Now that I think about it, I'm a little relieved by this turn of events. The first thing that I thought when Edward told me Alice 'saw' Nessie crying was the conversation I had with Alice about how she rarely ever 'saw' anything about Nessie and that when she did it gave her a migraine. My gut instinct was to not trust the snake, I should have listened to it.

Alice not being able to see her had always made perfect sense to me; Nessie's future is my future, if you can't see one, you can't see the other. It had scared me then to think that might have changed, that was part of the reason I had been so sure she was mad at me. Maybe now it was gone again because she was coming back to me, on her way home right now.

If only. Then we could leave together. Forget about her family and Leah and just go, just the two of us. Maybe we'd come back after a few decades to check on everything. Maybe not.

Except that I had just made a deal with one of them to keep him informed. And, even if I hadn't, they'd never leave us alone. Because they have eternity too.

They're an inescapable part of having Nessie in my life. And she'd want me to get along with them, even after what they did, because she really was that sweet.

And I knew without a doubt that I would do it just because she asked me. Which should have bothered me as much as I hate Edward but doesn't because the thought of having her close enough to talk to me is enough to make me forget about everything else.

I can think of a hundred things I want to do and say when I see her but not a single thought about how to find her. I haven't felt this worthless since before I had it out with Sam when Embry left.

I don't know why I went off on him like that. He was trying to do me a favor by taking us back into his pack, I knew for a fact he didn't want Leah back but was offering anyway. But there was something in the way he said it, like he was talking down to me, like he was calling me a failure as an Alpha.

Up until then I hadn't really thought of myself as one but when I thought about being under his command again it felt like I was being cornered. Instant claustrophobia. The thought of having to obey like a house pet, I just snapped.

I had been wound kinda tight when Embry just up and left. I understood why he had to go and all but it was still really unexpected, like, boom, we're suddenly grown ups. It probably didn't help that Jared and Kim moved in together and Sam and Emily had just tied the knot. Or that I was about to turn twenty one. Or that Seth was going to start college that summer.

He put it off for me. Even if he never directly said so, I know. He wouldn't have waited this long to go if I had broken up the pack when Embry moved to Alaska. Even now the little guy was itching to come back, I felt it in him last time we talked. That and I know the huge risk he was taking by phasing somewhere as populated as Seattle just to talk to me.

And that was before there was even any drama to rush home over. He worries over me almost as much as Nessie does.

Now that's saying something, I can't even have a bad day without her trying to diagnose me with that psychobabble of hers.

It was weird when puberty made her power go on the fritz, when I started hearing _everything_. Well, it was weird when I realized that she wasn't doing it on purpose.

I had no idea how to tell her. But I knew it wasn't right to just listen in on her like that either. Not when there was the option not to. Especially when her thoughts started to mature too.

With how fast she grew I should have expected the mental changes to be as quick but I was caught way off-guard. Probably because her mind had always been so far ahead of her body, she was still so tiny when it first happened. She was still small even now.

But she's almost stopped growing, she'll probably be full size within the next year or so. A small part of me wants to avoid her until she's done. The temptation that night had been soul-crushing, after a separation like this I don't think I'll be able to hold back anymore once I see her.

Unless I stop touching her altogether. Not something I looked forward to, it was hard enough to cut back the way I already had. But no sacrifice was too great because I had no intention of ever letting her out of my sight again. I don't even want to get into all the things I'd be willing to do for her. It'd take too long and some of it I don't want to admit to myself.

And that last thing I want to do is force her into something she's not ready for, I've already had a taste of that guilt and it was more than enough for several lifetimes.

A year is nothing. It should be nothing. I didn't even notice them flying by until that August night. Now every second felt like years.

All the lights in the house were out when I got home. Billy's sleeping and I don't want to know where Rachel is or what she's doing. One of the best things about being in a different pack is that I don't have to be in Paul's head anymore. I pray that Leah never imprints, I can barely stand listening to her as it is.

I do my best to ninja my way through the darkness and make it upstairs. I don't bother turning on the light in my room. I don't even change, just belly flop on my tiny bed and hope for unconsciousness.

* * *

**Endnote:** I wish I could take credit for Dr. Acula but it's a Scrubs reference. XD


	13. Livin' La Vida Loca

**A/N**: The Story Formerly Known as Solstice.

* * *

**Mindy**, thanx. :) The more Jacob I write the louder his voice gets in my head. There are actually points when I write the Nessie chapters that I can hear him yelling at her like Edward did to Bella in New Moon.

**WaK**, I'm glad you were surprised, like the majority of this story, it wasn't meant to be obvious. ;)

Lalage, I don't take it personally, I know y'all have lives. That's why I love it so much when you do comment, because I'm _very _aware what a precious commodity time is for us mortals. :)

**Lil**, _¿Como estas, mi amiga?_ I hope my Caribbean-influenced dialect isn't too far off the mark, I went back and changed _subiendo_ to _abordando. _:)

**Jenna**, I love that you're as caught up in this as I am. Your appreciation validates all the time and effort I invest; now I don't feel as guilty about shirking my less interesting responsibilities to work on this. ;)

**Bella**, Superfreaky! _¡Lo amo!_ XD

**lily**, Scrubs is one of the few things that my boyfriend and I can agree on watching. We both love Dr. Cox's sense of humor and think that J.D. needs to be more manly. If I could Alpha anyone up, it'd be him. I might do a one-shot when I finish this just to try it out. :D

**Bellita**, XD _Arrorró, _from my understanding, is the Mexican version of the same sort of sound pattern. It doesn't mean anything, it's just a soothing sound they use as filler, I assume tutotuto serves much the same lyrical purpose. And I'm thrilled that you think I'm staying true to the characters, I've tried to make it a priority to do so.

**ChampS**, I promise I will do my best to get another one out this week but, while I've already knocked one test out, my plate is still pretty full. DX But don't panic, I've had the ending in mind since chapter five so, without a doubt, I will finish this. ;)

OAT, :D I'll try my best.

**razzle, **thanks for sticking with me so long, especially after the first update took forever. I know I've said it before but it really means a lot to me. :)

**Summer**, your review made me lol. XD

**GIG**, thank you so much for stopping by. :D

* * *

_Renesmee_

* * *

Thursday

In spring the glaciers of the dormant volcano _Cerro Tronador_ melt loudly into the waterways of the park giving it the name 'Thunderer.' The _Frias_ glacier streams down a cliff to feed the thousand foot _Garganta del Diablo Cascada_. It's nothing compared to the one in the _Rio Iguazú_ in northern Argentina by the Brazilian border but, as it was the first waterfall I had ever seen _in person_, it was still breathtaking to me.

Maya seemed like she couldn't be any less interested in the sights. She walked right past the viewpoint and immediately started the trek down the southeast slope into _Pampa Linda_. I lingered peering over the edge for awhile, enjoying the view and wishing I had a camera. After a few minutes she reappeared to hurry me along.

About an hour later we reached a relatively secluded area, a flat bit of steppe off the main trail encircled by tall bushes, and she stopped me, taking the pack. I watched her warily, it was too early for lunch but we never break for anything besides food.

If she's going to try tying me up again, I'm going to be ready for it. But instead she digs out a beat up cassette player covered in shiny stickers written in a language that looked like it could be Spanish or French but was neither. Silently she handed it to me.

I accepted it but didn't put the headphones on, instead waiting for her to give some explanation before I lowered my guard.

"What are you waiting for, _mijita_?"

"What are we doing?"

"Training," she said it in a way that bordered on condescending and I found myself sneering at her.

We stared hard at each other, neither one of us backing down. Then she suddenly stomped her foot making a loud thump that startled me.

"You flinched, I win," she grinned wickedly at me, "Put it on."

"What? That-"

"_Apúrate_ or we are not going to have time for lunch."

I glare defiantly at her but comply.

"You have to hit play for it to work, _mijita_." It's the same patronizing tone but her smile is genuine now.

The music on the tape was strange, like nothing I'd ever heard before. A rhythmic rattling that was accompanied by some sort of stringed instrument that fluctuated between sounding like a drum and a didgeridoo.

"Now move like this," she demonstrated a hopping step sequence; shifting forward, then over, then back, switching from foot to foot, rocking back and forth.

Her cadence matches the music and I have no trouble imitating her. We move like mirror images facing each other; almost touching when we step forward and then swaying back away from each other.

The beat is hypnotizing in a metronomic sort of way and after a few minutes the dance is no longer a conscious process. As soon as I was comfortable she took a double step back, putting another arm's length between us.

She kept the pattern going, eyes locked on mine. Then she dipped, putting her hands on the ground, swinging one foot up at head level and then, without breaking tempo, was back up and hop-stepping again, arcing her arms around her as she bounced from foot to foot.

Smiling widely at me as she did it again, slower, maintaining eye contact and quirking a brow at me. The next time she dropped down, I copied her. After a few successful attempts on my part she added a handstand transition.

All the movements kept time to the repetitive syncopation of the melody. It felt a lot like when we were at the disco. But then she moved closer again and broke sync so that her limbs would swish over my head as we spun and dipped in opposition, coming close to me but never touching.

As the exchange progressed, I started taking wide swings at her too. It was like some odd combination of break-dancing and no-contact fighting.

After a few hours I had to stop. Lunch had ended up being skipped anyway and it was wearing on me. Plus my quadriceps felt like they were melting off my femurs; the brobdignanian proportions of Maya's thighs were beginning to make a lot more sense. We got back on the trail and by mid-afternoon had reached the designated camping area with its tourist-friendly cooking pits.

"Gather some wood and start the fire," she handed me a water bottle and walked away, "I will take care of the food."

There was plenty of dry brush around the edges of the site and a book of matches in the hiker's pack. It didn't take long to get the fire going strong on its own but Maya still wasn't back. Once the sky started to darken I started to get paranoid about her running off with my bag so I piled some stones around the fire to fence it in the way Jake had taught me and took off in the direction she had.

I found her perched in a tree, stalking a Patagonian cavy the size of a small dog that was feeding on some undergrowth amongst the roots. It was a cute little animal that had the face of a kangaroo and the body of a miniature deer.

But it never had a chance.

Springing from the branch, she grabbed its head and twisted it under her to cushion her fall, its skull cracking like a ripe walnut on the rocks. She landed in a squat and sliced open its chest with the tip of a serrated knife that she pulled from her boot. Making a quick Y-incision, she spread the ribs and reached in with her bare hand to extract the still thumping heart.

It smelled sooooo good. Each fading beat sent the scent wafting toward me and made my mouth water.

I _wanted_ it. I moaned in anguish, my throat on fire. Her head snapped up, eyes flashing. We stared at each other in silence but then her eyes slitted and she was on top of me in three bounds.

The force of it knocked me on my back as she landed on my chest. One of her hands clenched the stilling heart above my head; the other held my throat, fingers pressing into my pulse points.

I swallowed reflexively, it smelled even better up close. But I made myself keep my eyes on hers. I didn't move, didn't think, just looked back at her, matching my gaze to her intrusive one.

Her lip curled back in what was less a smirk than a baring of teeth, "You should not be wandering around in the dark by yourself, _mijita_, there are scary things in the shadows."

I glance at the heart, its smell is starting to dissolve into the air and there's an increased sense of urgency to the burning. As she leaned forward over me her fingers tensed on my neck. Cautiously she sniffed my face, her mouth hanging open in an odd way that made it look as if she was panting.

"_Mijita_," she said slowly once she pulled back slightly, _"¿quieres este corazón?"_

I forced my gaze to hers but didn't answer, trying to ignore the fragrance of It, focusing on the ridges and flecks of her irises to keep myself distracted. Her eyes narrow and darken.

"If you want _it_," she drawled, mouth straightening into a sly smile, "I will give it to you."

My eyes snapped back to the visceral mass in her fist before I could stop myself. I could feel her stare boring into me as her hand tightened on my trachea.

"Please," I whisper softly as I turn back to her. She leans in and takes another long sniff, then pops up off of me.

I rose cautiously, watching her face. She gave me an appraising look and extended the heart to me. I looked at her a long moment before reaching for it, only to have her retract it at the last second.

"Too slow," she smiled, her eyes softening as she held it out again.

I snatched at it but she was too fast. Her smile became taunting and she waved it slowly at me.

"It is getting cold."

I fake a grab with my right hand and snag it with my left.

"_¡Ay!_ Would you look at that? You just needed some incentive." She was grinning at me like she had just discovered the wheel.

I turn my back to her and take a mouthful of the cooling organ, slurping it down in three bites. A distant part of my mind is disgusted by the gamey taste but I can already feel it being absorbed, slaking the thirst. After so long without a real pint, the rapidly dropping temperature of the blood didn't even faze me.

When I finished licking my fingers clean, I turned back to see her digging two deep ditches with the toe of her boot.

"_¿Qué está haciendo?"_ I pondered aloud.

"The smell attracts animals, unless you were planning on eating the other guts," she eyed me pointedly before continuing when I didn't respond, "I rather dispose of this away from where we will be sleeping."

I shook my head and waited for her, worrying about the implications of what had just transpired. That moment of weakness may bear a significant price. And without the taunting perfume of hemoglobin to cloud my judgment the magnitude of what had just occurred began to dawn on me.

With a few quick saws she decapitated it. She whispers to the disembodied head in a language I didn't know before kissing it and burying it in its own grave. Then she dumped the rest of the innards into the other hole. When she finishes she pushes me playfully, herding me toward the campground, carrying the bloody rodent by its thin legs.

Once we were back she flayed the rabbit-like creature with a precision akin to dissection. When she was done she impaled it with a thin iron bar and set it on the rotisserie stand over the fire.

She settled cross-legged beside me as we waited for the meat to cook, sitting side by side as we watched the flames lick at it, a beacon in the descending darkness of night.

"You do not like girls, do you?" She was facing the fire but she was looking at me from the corner of her eye. I stared at her but she kept her head turned away and waited.

"Not like that," I answered after a few beats as I turned back to the fire.

"So who was that girl then?"

I look at her from the corner of my eye and don't answer, staring at each other a long while before she gets up to rotate the cavy carcass.

"Was it about a boy?"

I keep my eyes on the fire and try not to think about Him.

"That is why she was naked, right?" She sits down facing me, quite a few inches closer than before she got up.

I continue ignoring her. Even if I could stand to talk about it, I'm not about to divulge information that personal to this girl. I've never discussed that sort of subject matter before, not even with my own family.

"The boy who's blood you drank?"

My eyes snapped to hers before I could stop myself and she smirked victoriously.

"Why are you even asking me if you already know?" I reply hoping to be evasive.

Her smile flipped into a frown, "You did not think of them with words, it is hard to figure out what the emotions you attach to them mean."

"Did it occur to you that if I wanted to tell you about this I already would have?"

"You already did," she smiled conspiratorially.

I sigh and look away. "You already know everything pertinent, I don't know what more you want me to say."

She seems taken aback, "You do not gossip about boys where you are from?"

I remembered then that I had been sitting just like this with Amber in an eerily similar setting when she had asked me about Jake. This must have been where I messed up. Female peer association is apparently oriented around mate selection processes.

And Maya's looking at me much the same way Amber did then too. Perhaps I should use this as an opportunity to practice if it's such a crucial social skill.

"It's just that there's nothing to talk about," I answer as candidly and calmly as I can, "He doesn't feel the same way and he has a girlfriend."

"The naked girl?"

"No. She and I don't get along for other reasons."

"Oh," Maya looked confused, had done so the entire time I was talking. But she stayed quiet after that, contemplative.

Either I had messed up again or she was plotting something. Both scenarios were probable and I kept my eyes on her until the crackling meat caught my attention.

"Shouldn't that be turned?"

She hopped up to tend to it without saying anything. But she didn't come back; she stayed next to the spit, revolving it in an absent manner, staring into the flames. Unlike the incident at Seth's party, however, I was stuck with this girl; I couldn't just run home and cry.

In an effort to restart the conversation I asked her, "Why are we sleeping here tonight if it's really as dangerous as you keep saying it is?"

"It is safer here."

"The tigers don't come this far south?"

" 'Tiger' Island is the land in the middle of the lake."

"If it's surrounded by water," I ask confused, "then why did we have to sleep in the tree?"

That finally got her to look up at me. "_Porque_," her voice took on a serious quality_,_ "the lake is also where the monster lives."

"Monster?"

The firelight cast flickering shadows across the half of her face not immersed in the darkness and she smiled forebodingly at me, enunciating each word distinctly, "A monster just like Nessie."

* * *

**Endnote**: Oh no she didn't!

_Cerro Tronador – _Mount Thunderer

_Garganta del Diablo Cascada – _Throat of the Devil Waterfall

_Apúrate – _Hurry up

_¿quieres este corazón? – _Do you want this heart?

_¿Qué está haciendo? – _can mean either 'What is she doing?' or, when addressed to someone, 'What are you doing?'

_Porque - _Because


	14. The Perfect Drug

**A/N**: _Aurora Australis_ is the scientific term for the Southern Lights. It's most visible south of the 50° S latitude but can be seen from the mountains of southern Argentina and Chile on very clear nights. It is best viewed from Antarctica, and the southern parts of Australia and New Zealand.

I'm very happy that everyone likes the new title. Only one person was expressly against a switch so I went for it. I hope everyone found it okay, a couple of my regulars didn't review and I worry that it's because of the change.

Also, **GIG** has added this story to her fabulous archive. XD If you enjoy Imprint stories I highly recommend you check it out (I'm a big Jared/Kim fan and I'm starting to get into Quil/Claire too). You can find a link to the C2 in my profile.

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Friday

I slept but not well. I sleepwalked through my day and almost dropped an engine block on my head. Twice. It probably wouldn't have done much to me but I don't know how I would have explained it to Mark when it cracked in half and I was fine. I probably wouldn't have bothered, if he had said anything at all to me about it I would have popped him in the mouth and gone home.

I guess we're both lucky that it didn't come to that.

Mark's a good guy, he helped me get my certification and gave me whatever hours I wanted. I would have felt bad if I hurt him. Eventually. All this responsibility stuff was really starting to wear on me.

Last week it didn't, it gave me something to do to keep my mind off of Nessie hating me. But now it was like I have all these leashes tying me to a fence post, holding me back from her. It makes me think of my time in Canada, the freedom of not having to think like a human, not having to worry about human things like work or money or time.

I haven't thought of it like that in years. Haven't thought of it at all in six years. I don't like all this damn thinking. Makes my head hurt.

I wish I didn't have to drive to work either, that I could just run there and back. Being human for such long periods of time is starting to make me uncomfortable. Being the wolf is so much simpler, it makes everything so much clearer.

The wolf never doubted her, never believed Edward. But he didn't want to hold back either, wanted to claim her for good that night. Would have too. As much as I don't want to be, I am grateful that Leechy stopped us.

Quil would have never let himself carried away like that. And, technically speaking, my imprint is younger than his. Nessie just felt _so_ _good_, _so right_, that I don't think I would have been able to resist even if I had been stone cold sober. It had been like trying to stop a hurricane with my hands, it went right through me no matter how much I tried to hold back.

After I got home and took a long cold shower I found Leah waiting for me downstairs, talking with Billy. I really hope she didn't say anything to him, I know he'd push me to tell Sam, might even do it himself.

And I really don't want to hear it right now. I don't want to see Leah either. I want to pass right by them, out the door, go eat somewhere else. But she had brought a peace offering, two buckets of fried chicken.

I grab one from her without saying anything and settle myself in front of the TV. The Huskies are playing the Cougars at seven and it's only a matter of time before Charlie comes and gets Billy. I don't want to be around for that either, the past couple times I've seen him he's asked me about Nessie and if I hear him say her name right now I just might lose it.

Luckily he just honks and Billy meets him outside. Unluckily now I'm alone with Leah. I've been avoiding her as much as possible, keeping conversations to a minimum, passing messages through Quil. I wish we were phased so I could just order her away.

I know I'll forgive her eventually because she's pack but seeing her right now reminds me how very far away Nessie is, how long it's been since I've heard her gentle voice. How every time I go along with what Leech Boy says it turns around and bites me. How trusting Leah had turned out much the same way.

For a minute there I was even mad at Emily for being so damn fertile. If she hadn't gotten knocked up again then Leah would have just finished her damn patrol quietly and gone home. And I would have been alone when Nessie showed up. We could have left together.

And right now that was the thing I wanted most in the whole world. I'd also rather be degreasing an engine with nothing but my spit and a toothbrush then sitting here with Leah waiting for kickoff.

I reach for another drumstick and get a handful of bones. I hadn't tasted a thing but I had already eaten it all. I'm still hungry but I don't want to go to the kitchen to get the other bucket from her. I don't even want to look over there. I'd just up and leave if I wasn't so sure she'd follow me.

"You need to stop falling asleep without phasing back."

"You need to bring me that chicken and stop telling me what to do with my life."

She handed me the bucket and I growled at her when she reached for the remote. Then I put my legs up on the sofa so she couldn't sit next to me. Without reacting at all she went and got her chair from the kitchen, setting it next to the couch and keeping her eyes on the television.

We sat there in silence for so long that I didn't realize I was sleeping until she spoke and woke me up.

"There's something I need to tell you."

No. I don't want to hear anything that starts off like that. I can't take anything else going wrong this week, I'll go effing postal.

"When you left to get my clothes she hugged me."

That's not at all what I was expecting. It sounds more like the beginnings of a letter to Penthouse.

"I think she thinks we slept together."

"Because you hugged?"

"Not me and her. 'We' as in you and me."

"And why, Leah, would she think that?" If this is a confession, it'll be her last one.

"Because we were naked maybe. That's what it sounded like."

"What did she say?! Why the hell didn't you tell her it was because we had just phased?" Not in the house, there'll be blood everywhere. My head snaps to the window and I feel a sadistic grin twist my face. _Outside_.

"She didn't actually say anything," Leah pleaded, "Not out loud. I didn't realize what it was until I saw her do it in your dream this morning."

She looks scared as hell. Something wet hits my arm. I'm drooling, my mouth is half-changed and leaking.

I center myself and shift back.

"So you 'heard' her when you were hugging?"

She nods at me, her eyes huge.

"And you didn't show me that part because…?"

"Because of what just happened to your face?" It was more of a question than an answer.

I nod once. "You should leave. Now."

She was up and out of the chair before I finished talking but something occurred to me before she made it out the door. "You were phased this morning?"

Turning slowly, she gives me a guilty look, "I thought you'd be up. I was checking to see how mad you still were."

"Extremely," I growl, "Get out of my sight."

I don't have to say it twice, she's gone. But it doesn't make me feel any better.

Nessie left because of me. She thought I was messing around on her. And with _Leah_ of all people. It feels like my intestines have tied themselves around my stomach and are choking it out. The chicken tries to turn on me too but I manage to hold it down.

I can't stop cussing under my breath, the same words over and over in different orders like a trance. I've failed her. The one thing in the world I should have made her sure of was what had driven her away. She didn't trust me.

This wasn't the leeches' fault, it was mine. And I'm sitting here trying not to lose it while I wait for them to fix this? Eff that.

I grab my shoes, the keys to the bike, and the leather jacket Alice gave me last Christmas. She made a big deal about how she had to get it at a specialty shop because of the size issue. I'd just as soon wander around topless but I know how much Nessie likes it on me. I haven't worn it for her for awhile, I'd been saving it. But I need to feel close to her right now so I dig it out. It reminds me much more of Ness, what she thought the first time I wore it for her. Everything reminds me of her, especially these days.

I didn't notice I was speeding until I cut off a pick-up when I merged onto the one-oh-one and he laid on the horn at me. So I throttled it. But then he sped up too. When he started tailgating me, I had to pull over. I really don't have time for this BS.

He was cursing before he was out of the cab, a big guy in dirty overalls. I felt the metal of the handlebars creak in my hands as he got closer. Then he got in my face and called me something that he _really_ shouldn't have.

The only reason I loaded my bike in the truck bed and drove him to hospital was because I was already heading there anyway.

* * *

"Would you mind telling me what happened to your friend, Jacob?"

"Why don't you ask him?" I hope it's because his jaw was broken and had to be wired shut.

"I did," he said eyeing me, "There's no way a 'fall' could have that angle of impact unless it was from a window."

I shrug and glare at him, "_I _don't know_ anything_."

He gets the message and his face drops another inch. "You think coming here with some man that you assaulted is going to convince me of your good intentions? That lying about it is going to inspire my trust?"

Well not when you put it like that. "I don't like being kept in the dark, Carlisle. _It's not fair_."

"It's a not an English speaking country." When I don't react he continues slower, "Its detective work, not fighting. If you can't understand, you can't help."

"I could help interrogate."

"That's already covered in a preferably more discreet way."

My bones crack because Snake in the Grass gets to ride the white horse to the rescue. Again. It really isn't fair. My joints click and pop and Doc gets scared.

He takes a nervous sweep of the hallway and pulls me into a supply closet barely big enough for the two of us.

"I understand how hard this must be on you but losing control will only make things worse, I promise you."

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" I whisper furiously, "I'm lost without her."

"I wish I knew," he sighed, "we're already doing everything we can think of. Unless you want a sedative, I can't help you."

I glare at him and he looks even sorrier.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to go tend to your friend's orbital blowout fracture." He looked at me like I should feel bad about it.

Even if I knew what that was, he'd still be wasting his time waiting for me to care. But then I remember that it would upset Nessie if she found out and I _do_ feel bad. "You won't tell her, right?"

He shakes his head in a broken kind of way and slips out.

I'm glad that at least there's kickboxing class tonight. I could use some guilt-free venting. Especially now that Dr. Ugdealer had ruined the brief satisfaction I got from clocking the big mouth redneck.

I make eye contact with said Bubba as I pass his room on the way out. He looked away almost immediately and thanked me for the ride all soft like it was a date or something. It made me want to hit him again. But I couldn't because I shouldn't because I love Nessie and she wouldn't like it, because she'd be disappointed with me.

I'd never beat up a human before and, no matter how deserving this guy was, I shouldn't have. And I know it's only going to get worse the longer this goes on, the longer she's gone.

That guy could press charges, if they try to lock me up right now I _will_ kill somebody, as many as I have to. No more prisons, never again.

Quil didn't show up. I vaguely remember him mentioning something about switching patrols with Leah but it was good class anyway. I got to fight the black belts. All of them, all at once.

It wore me out though. I went home and crashed, that good completely-passed-out, dead-to-the-world kind of sleep. The first night in I don't know how long.

So of course Billy wakes me up shouting in the early yellow-grey light of a rainy dawn, "Dr. Cullen's on the phone, he says it's important."

I'm almost to the bedroom door when he adds, "He wouldn't say what he wants but he didn't sound so good."

* * *

**Endnote:** **:O**

**ChampS, **it's part of learning to control her power. **:)**

**Summer, **I wish you'd let my Capstone adviser know that, lol.** XD**

megs, I like how you phrased that, addiction is one of the underlying metaphors I've tried to include in this piece, hence some of the song selections, this chapter included. **;)**

Lalage, one thing is going to be cleared up soon.** ;)**

**Jutey, **"But maybe the wait isn't really to blame, so I'll remove the cause but not the symptoms." **;)**

**Jenna, **that is exactly what I want to hear. **:D**

**Lil, **_muchas gracias_ **:)** The problem is I often don't know when I've made a mistake. Though I do know that the accents are one of my weak points, tricky little buggers.

**Medicat, **I love that you found that funny. **XD**

**razzle, :D **yeah, Ms. Nessie is more than a little confused, it's one of my ways of emphasizing her humanity. I know that I can empathize with her plights much more than I'd like to.

**WaK, **in _Constant Craving_ when Nessie's sucking on Maya's finger she's thinking about drinking from Jake. That's why Maya mistakes the behavior for a come on. **;)**

OAT, and you rock for reviewing. **:)**

**Mindy, **I'd comment but I don't want to give anything away.** ;)**

**Bellita, **I concur, an Illusion turn would be way out of her league, even given the liberties I've taken with her vampire physiology (she wouldn't have been able to climb mountains weighted down and without her hands in one day if she were purely human.) The proper term for the 'kick' is 'Meia Lua de Compasso' (sometimes called 'Rabo de Arraia'.) If you're interested, check the link in my profile under the Cavy pic. **:)**

**Silence, **I guess you'll just have to keep reading. **;)**

**lily**, glad you liked it **:D**


	15. Letal

**A/N**: I'm simply thrilled that everyone likes the Jacob chapters so much, especially given the rocky start they got off to.

* * *

**Medicat**, I suppose that will remain to be seen. ;)

OAT, part of the reason I wanted to do this story is because I thought he had a lot of potential. I'm glad I could persuade you as well. :)

**Jenna**, and I think I've caught myself a cliffy addiction. I just can't seem to stop. ;)

**Lil**, will do. :) And please feel free to let me know if you spot any glaring mistakes.

**razzle**, life _should _slow back down after next week. Hopefully. ;)

**WaK**, actually, if it's anybody's fault she left, it's mine. XD

**Mindy**, not at all. ;) Jacob Black in a black leather jacket being extra dominant... How is that _not _hot?

**ChampS**, I'll _try _to get another one out this week. :)

**Bellita**, Dr. Ugdealer is original though it was inspired by Dr. Acula. I'm glad you liked it. XD

**Jutey**, admitting it is the first step, lol. ;)

**Summer**, sorry I didn't respond sooner. School still has me so tied up between postings that I don't even get to check my e-mail for days at a time. _Lo siento. _:_)_

Tess_, _I went back and put translations for the Spanish portions in the **Endnote **of each chapter. :D

Lalage, sorry that I lost you there. I'm so glad you found your way back. :)

**lily**, I totally second that sentiment. I hope this chapter doesn't interfere with your sleep like it did mine. ;)

* * *

_Renesmee_

* * *

Thursday Night

I froze up when she said it, barely managing to force out a "What do you mean?"

"_¿Cómo __se dice?_" Her manner was light but her eyes were sharp, observing me relentlessly, "The Loch Ness monster, _un dinosaurio acuático_."

"A Plesiosaur?" It was hard to stifle a sigh of relief; she didn't know.

"Something like that."

"And you believe that something of those dimensions could live undetected in a landlocked lake for millions of years?"

She shrugged lackadaisically but watched me unblinking, "I have seen too many things to not be open to possibilities."

It was a hard point to argue. I was certainly in no position to contradict it. But I still got the distinct impression that she didn't really buy into it either. She was too interested in my responses to pull off the blasé tone she was trying to affect.

"Well?" she prodded.

"Well what?" I fear my declaration of respite might have been premature.

"You have nothing to say about that?"

It's obvious now that she's messing with me, that it's some kind of ploy, like everything else. "Actually I do, Maya." I snapped at her, "I'm tired of your head games. If you have something to say, say it or shut up."

And she stared at me mouth agape for almost a full minute before responding. "Finally! I was worried you were never going to grow a pair."

Wait. "What?"

"_Mija_, you let everybody walk all over you. Me, _el Alemán_, Naked Girl… It's about time you stood up for yourself instead of waiting for someone to save you."

I stared dumbly at her for a good five minutes. That was not at all the response I had been expecting. Particularly the way she had framed it.

Because in the back of my head I _was_ anticipating my family's arrival. Every time one of their faces crossed my mind I would wonder when I would see them again in terms of it being temporally proximal. Not too long ago I would have even expected Jake to be with them as well.

I was no better than the bad actress hiding in the warehouse, a pathetic damsel in distress wasting her opportunities by counting on someone else to show up and solve her problems for her. I've never felt so mentally impaired in my entire life.

"You're right," I whispered because if I said it too loudly it'd be too real.

A huge Cheshire grin split her face and she flicked her head in triumph like a hip hop video vixen. "_¡Claro que si! Pero ya tu sabes_."

She employed a drastically exaggerated accent that was so much like Seth's Tony Montana impersonation I couldn't help a chortle.

"_Mija_," she chuckled, "did you just snort?"

I giggled and it happened again which made her laugh harder. It caused her face to squish in a way that I found simply hysterical.

But then I couldn't stop laughing. I shook with the force of it until it regressed into sobs. Every emotion I had stamped down in the past three months erupted to the surface, my hot tears streaming like lava down my cheeks.

And then she was hugging me. Just like Jake did when I asked him about Irina. That's when I really started bawling, drenching Maya and myself, leaking like a storm-battered levee. It was suffocating; I had forgotten just how debilitating this anguish was in its pure form. My regulatory systems felt like they were seizing up but there was no way I could hope to temper it. Whimsically I wondered if death would be a welcome release from this earthbound torment.

"_¡No mijita!"_ She clenched me tighter with an almost bone-crushing intensity and I realized that she was crying too.

I clung to her like she was my last line of life support.

"Just let it all out," she comforted me, "It will be okay."

And I believed her, so I did. I cried because I was scared, because I was lonely, because I missed my family. But above all else, I cried because of Jake; a tear for every missed opportunity, for every stupid mistake, for every girlhood fantasy I ever had of him that was never ever going to come true no matter how long I lived.

My pain was selfish and juvenile, and I cried for that too, for being a pathetic failure.

"No, _mijita_," she cooed, "I have seen your potential. You will learn to accept your feelings, to control them so they will not control you. I will teach you to use that energy as a weapon, as strength."

As she stroked my hair the spasming of my diaphragm started to abate and awareness of how ridiculous I was behaving began to seep in. I was ashamed of how infantile I was acting and tried to pull away to collect myself but she wouldn't let me.

"I'm sorry fo-"

"No. First rule is 'No Apologies'." My face must have shown how appalled I was by that statement because she sighed, "If I feel offended, I will tell you. If I do not then_ no importa._"

I nodded mutely and relaxed into the strong arms cradling me until the scent of burning had her leaping up to salvage the cavy.

* * *

"Thankfully, alert gauchos were able to save the llama before it was swept into the blades of the turbine."

"That's a relief," I laughed. "So you've been in Argentina for awhile now then?"

She shook her head and took another big puff of her cigarette, "Just a couple of weeks. _¿Y__ tu?"_

"I arrived the morning of the day we met."

"Oh? From where?"

"I'm from Washington."

"_¿Quién__?"_

"It's a state," I correct her, "I'm American."

"This whole continent is an America. You're the only ones that try to claim the name like that."

There's a hint of bitterness to her tone that triggers my defenses, "Well, until I said that you had no idea what I was talking about."

She glared hard at me before conceding, "_Verdad_. But it is like the chicken and the egg. Who is to say what causes which."

I smile at her, "Every once in awhile you say something smart."

"And the rest of the time?"

"The rest of the time you're just annoying." The friendly teasing comes easily, like she's just one of the pack.

She smiles proudly at me, "I like to shake things up, growth can not happen without change." Her smile turned devilish and she added, "And you are just too much fun to mess with."

I stick my tongue out at her in jest and a mushy lump of masticated mara lands on her lap. Before I have a chance to be embarrassed she squeals and blows a huge cloud of smoke into my face, causing me to cough and sputter dizzily.

I retaliate by spitting the rest of my food at her and she giggles wildly, hopping out of range. She snatches up the canteen and douses me before backing away, snickering as I pop up shaking. It was so _cold_.

Shrieking she tries to dodge me as I advance but I spring at her and cling, rubbing as much of the dampness on her as I can before she manages to divest herself of me.

We try to glare each other down for a moment but then dissolve into laughter at our disheveled appearances. Once we got our breath back we collapsed by the fire, trying to dry ourselves with its warmth.

There's a peaceful, companionable quiescence between us for a long while before something starts tickling at the back of my brain.

"So you were just messing with me?"

"About?"

"The lake monster."

Her smile turned calculating and she considered me quietly a few beats before replying, "I do not know if he is real or not, I have never seen him or anything like that."

"You were just making fun of my name then?"

"No, Nessie," she rolled it in her mouth like it tasted strange, "I may not use your name but I do like it. Many people believe in the monster, the local _indígenas_ told the first European explorers about him long before Nessie was ever reported. I can take you to the souvenir store they have for him when we get back to San Carlos."

"The local _indígenas_?"

"There is a tribe that lives in the Andes," she gestured vaguely towards the western mountains, "have for thousands of years. They say he has been here as long as they have."

"Why is it," I wondered aloud, "that people assume the Loch Ness creature is a female and that this one a male? Are they a couple or something?"

She doesn't even notice my attempt at humor, eyes sharp again, "Because people don't care about their real sex, it goes by their nicknames."

I looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. She surveys my face, I can feel her eyes tracing every line so I hold it so still that I stop breathing until she continues.

"They are both named after the lakes they live in. The Scotts call her Nessie after Lake Loch Ness." She paused and searched my eyes in a way that was almost pleading.

I just stared back on tenterhooks with baited breath.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Her eyes narrowed and flashed dangerously.

Taken aback, I furrow my brow at her, "Because your tone implied that you weren't finished speaking yet?"

"What are you playing at?" Her face tightens further and her tone is angry, "You already know this."

I shake my head vehemently at her, more than a little apprehensive about the aggressive and excessive mood change. Just when I was beginning to feel at ease with her she starts demonstrating mood shifts equivocal to the dynamic fluctuations of someone with a severe case of Bipolar Disorder. Except that it's precariously reminiscent of Robert Louis Stevenson's antagonist.

Cautiously I try to diffuse her frightening intensity with reason, "I have no clue what you're talking about, I was here less than twelve hours when I met you, most of which I spent sleeping."

"Oh really," she sneers softly, "then what did you come for then?"

"I already told you, I don't know."

"_¡Mentirosa!" _Her eyes blaze and for the first time since I met her I feel genuinely scared.

"Maya," I try to stay calm as her face ripples into a snarl, "Please, I-"

"Do not lie to me! We both know why you are here."

"Naked Girl?" I venture with a tentative smile hoping to lighten the mood.

"No," her voice stays hard but her gaze softens minutely with what looks like indecision, "Do not play with me, I heard you. I know what you are looking for, why you wanted to come to _this_ park."

My heart almost stops, stuttering and skipping painfully against my ribs. I make a vain gesture of denial whispering, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The namesake of _Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi_," her voice frosted, "_El Nahuelito_."

* * *

**Endnote**:

_Maybe the problem was that the social sciences are only dedicated to humans and I really wasn't one. I could interrogate grandpa about vampire behavior, but I wasn't really one of those either. I was an idiosyncrasy amongst oddities._

_And then it hit me like a Shakabuku._

_I actually felt something akin to excitement for the first time in months, I finally knew what to do. And I had very little time to do it._

_I booted up the computer impatiently clicking my nails in anxious tattoos against the keyboard. Running search after search, scouring databases with the clock panting down my neck. Nothing. In exasperation, I typed a solitary term in the Google search box and hit 'I'm Feeling Lucky,' even though I didn't._

_But I was._

Chapter 5, _Everybody's Talkin'_

_¿Cómo __se dice? _-How do you say it?

_un dinosaurio acuático _ -an aquatic dinosaur

_el Alemán_ -the German

_ Pero ya tu sabes_. -But you already know this.

_no importa- _it doesn't matter

_¿Y tu? -_ And you?

_¿Quién__? _ -Who?

_Verdad- _ True

_Indigenas _ -Indians (Indigenous peoples)

_¡Mentirosa!- _ Liar!

_Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi -_ Nahuel Huapi National Park

**And remember Reviews equal Love (and faster updates :D)**


	16. Hungry Like The Wolf

**A/N**: This will be the last one of the week so happy Halloween, Samhain, _Dia de los Muertos,_ All Soul's Day, etcetera.

Judging by the tone of the comments y'all are on tenterhooks too so I won't keep you. ;)

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Saturday Morning

My blood freezes in my veins and I could swear that my heart missed a few beats before turning over. I almost knocked Billy down when I rounded the bottom of the stairs but caught him in time to shove his chair out of the way. I doubt Dr. Jekyll would be calling me at seven in the morning just to update me on Bubba's condition, this has to be about Nessie.

Something about her that doesn't sound good. It's like every time I turn around another piece of the sky crashes down on my head, like the world is ending. Like the apocalypse is going to burst out of my chest any second and flatten everything into the ground.

"Is she okay?" Screw formalities and Billy's eavesdropping, I don't have time for a show.

"Good morning. I was wondering if I could treat you to breakfast." His voice is friendly but firm, like when Mr. Singer would try to explain to me exactly why I had failed yet another history test. Back before he gave up anyways.

"Can't you just te-"

"I would be very grateful if you'd be so kind as to join me at the Coffee Cantina."

He's dodging. Eff that. "I guess if you want to pick me up we can do that." Then I'll have you trapped in the car with me. No escape.

He must be thinking along the same lines because he's quiet for a bit. "I understand if you can't, maybe some other time then."

"I'll see you there in half an hour."

"It takes me almost an hour to get there and I live much clo-"

"Be there in forty five." And I hung up on him.

I was out the door before Billy could ask what was going on, he barely even had time to wheel himself out of the way before I could bowl him over again.

I beat the vamp to the restaurant. I knew I would but floored it the whole way there anyway. The waitress offered to get me a coffee or an appetizer when I told her I was waiting for someone. Normally I would have been all too happy to take up such an offer, especially with Dr. Moneybags paying. But my stomach was inside out and eating itself so I shook my head no without even looking at her.

Even before I went wolf I never had any problems with my appetite. Now I was queasier than one of those anorexic supermodels that Brady's always panting over, the kind that look like they spend more time on their knees than porn stars.

The air of calmness that surrounds Carlisle as he strolls in casually and makes small talk with the regulars at the counter winds me so tight that I'm forced to notice my legs are bouncing up and down because the table starts to shake with the intensity of it. He notices too and excuses himself to join me.

"Order something," he whispers as he sits across from me, "it will look odd if neither of us eats."

I don't give a damn about appearances but he'll hold out on me if I don't, I'm sure, so I call the girl over and point randomly at the menu. Her fingers brushed mine as she took it from me, her face went all red and she froze up.

Just when I'm about to snap at her to get the hell out of here so we could have some privacy, Carlisle smiles at her and asks for a cup of Earl Grey. She snaps out of it and scurries off, giving me one last look that only serves to further piss me off.

Enough with the damn song and dance already. I'm on him as soon as she's out of sight, "Well?!"

"Everything's fine," the breath I was holding rushes out before he adds, "as far as we know anyway."

"What? What do you know?"

After a few false starts he finally answers, "We know originally she was going somewhere specific and that she had to pass through a couple places to get there. They knew she was taking the long way so once Alice lost sight of her they decided to head straight to her final destination. But after a few day she still hadn't shown up so now they're checking the other stops on her route. Edward found a tourist who had seen her in one of the places Alice had so there's a good chance she hasn't left the town yet."

He broke off as the waitress returned with his drink and she lingered stupidly before I stared her down until she disappeared again.

I could tell Doc really didn't like how I was acting because of the face he made but he had to know I was at the bursting point because he continued without scolding me like he usually would. "However they still haven't been able to locate her. Plus there's a large wilderness between the two points so there's also a chance she could be there as well."

She's lost in the woods? Then this Big Bad Wolf is going to go get his Goldilocks. I'm almost on my feet when he grabs my arm and shakes his head quickly.

"Calm down please or I won't finish."

"There's more?" I plop back down and lean across the table, giving him my full attention.

He looks uncomfortable immediately and pulls his hand back sighing deeply. "Bella is aware that I've been in contact with you. She asked me to help you out with a plane ticket and tell you where to meet her, but only if you would swear not to further provoke Edward."

Of course, it's always about Edward with them. But I don't care this time. This is what I've been itching for- action. Real action. My chance to redeem myself to Ness, to be her hero. Just the idea of seeing her again has me feeling better than I have in months.

But when I look back at Carlisle he looks worried, staring into his cup like it's a crystal ball or something.

Before I can grill him the girl returns and puts my plate in front of me. She's drawn a smiley face on my pancakes with whipped cream; cherries for the eyes, bacon for the mouth, and scrambled eggs for hair. She smiles shyly and then retreats quickly with her notepad over her mouth.

With savage satisfaction I immediately carve it up much more brutally than necessary so she'll get the damn hint already.

"Really, Jacob, it's not her fault. And she's going out of her way to be nice, there's no need to be so rude. You're getting what you want after all."

I shrug and shovel in a mouthful, my hunger is back with a vengeance. It's not the giant pancakes they serve down on South Forks Avenue but they're still good. All I ate yesterday was fried chicken and I needed this more than I had realized.

"Thanks," I mumble around another bite as I gesture at the plate with my fork.

He catches my eye and smiles weakly. Then he pulls out a deposit envelope, "So you promise not to fight?"

I nod eagerly and swallow quickly, eyeing his hand like a hawk.

"To not attack anyone, anyone at all?"

I met his gaze at that and raised my eyebrows, his phrasing is setting off alarm bells. His forehead wrinkles but he stares back unblinking.

"How's Bubba doing?" I hedge.

He blinks at that before he spits out a hesitant, "Mr. Wilkes was doing just fine last I checked, he should have been released by now."

I nod again and he goes back to staring me down. I really don't like all these promises he keeps squeezing out of me, it feels like a set up. But what choice do I have? Seth's got another week of classes to go and even then I would still have no idea what either town is called.

"Yeah," I answer finally.

"So your word then?"

I nod but he just keeps looking at me expectantly until I say it, "I swear."

With a relieved smile he sits back and pushes the envelope across the table to me. I snatch it up and am out of my chair in the same motion. "So where-"

"There's a piece of paper with Bella's contact information in there." He takes a big sip of his tea and grimaces slightly but downs it and pushes the cup away.

"Thank you," I put my hand on his cold shoulder, "I don't know what I'd have done if…" I trail off without finishing but he pats my hand and smiles.

"Good luck, Jacob,"

There's still a sense of concern to him but I don't care anymore. I'm gone before the idiot waitress can come back and piss me off again.

The ride home was the best I'd had in a long time, the windows open despite the misty drizzle, wet wind in my face. It was like I was free again. I even sang along to the radio, which I never do. It'd been forever since I was in a mood this good so I just went with it. I was finally doing something, finally getting my chance to see her, to save her.

It wasn't even ten o'clock yet. I had more than enough time to shower, pack, and get a flight out. Thank god Bella had gotten me my passport years ago, though I wish she picked something a little less obvious than Wolfe. Then again, knowing how her tastes run I should probably consider myself lucky it wasn't worse. Much much worse. Shudder.

Aside from our trip to Brazil when the idiot stewardess thought Ness was my daughter, I had always gotten a secret pleasure from the fact that Nessie's fake last name was the same as mine. Made me proud, like it was a symbol that Ness belonged just as much to me as any of them.

Besides her initial reaction, Bells has been very supportive over the past few years. We've gotten closer with all that other foolish kid stuff out of the way. And because she knows I love Nessie as much as she does. Up until the incident she'd always been pretty straight up with me. I know she feels bad about it, that she wouldn't have done it if it weren't for Edward Sissyhands. That this was likely her trying to make it up to me.

The door's locked and I pray that it's not because Rachel and Paul are doing something in the living room. I make it a point to make as much noise as possible with the keys so they can make themselves decent if they need to. I can't wait until they're married and she just moves out already. It's gotten pretty disgusting over the past couple months and seeing it always puts me in a bad mood.

More than anything because it was yet another reminder that Nessie wasn't around, why she wasn't around. Although Paul's face was prone to pissing me off by itself, never as much as how he looked like he was trying not to laugh the one time I accidentally did walk in on them playing tonsil tag on the couch.

Just thinking about it makes the pancakes flip over in my stomach.

But when I open the door I wish it had been them instead. Even if they were making out. I'd even have preferred Leah to who was standing there.

The absolute last living person in the world I wanted to see waiting for me in my living room right now was Sam Uley.

* * *

**Endnote**: To my fellow Gringos of majority age- For the love of Jefferson, _please _vote. It is a duty, it is a right. Especially if you're lucky enough to live in a state where they actually count your votes. These issues effect us all, so get informed and get to the polls.

**Mindy**, I'd comment but I don't want to give anything away, lol. :D

**Medicat**, I prefer to think of it as her looking for herself. ;)

OAT, and so are you. :)

**Pastiche**, thanks. :D Love the name BTW.

**Summer**, yeah, I figured a refresher was called for since it had been quite awhile. You have no idea how many times it almost slipped out early. ;)

**Jenna**, "...it is still a fact that he _will_ attack again. Especially if he finds out what she's looking for." ;)

**Lil**, it was supposed to be _sabes _(my bad), I got the phrase from a reggaeton song. _Verdad _is something my _tico novio_ always says. I really appreciated the phonics tip :D I went back over the last chapter and accented my vowels properly. I'll do the others when I get some more time.

**WaK**, she's definitely looking for something like her... ;)

Lalage, I flatter myself to think it wasn't the slightest bit obvious so please don't feel bad. :)

**Jutey**, sorry I didn't add them sooner. Thanks for sticking it out. :)

**Bellita**, XD I loved your reaction, made me smile.

**SailorE**, it appears we're sharing the same scholastic affliction over this story. :D

**miztrez**, I think right now she belongs to Maya more than anyone, lol. :)

**razzle**, if the doors of perception were cleansed... ;)

**lily**, yeah, I know she can be rather abrasive at times. One of the reasons for that will become clearer eventually. :)


	17. Holding Out for a Hero

**A/N**: My grandpa's in the hospital and it's not good. There's not even a possibility of it being okay. I wasn't going to think about posting until things were... resolved but I had this chapter mostly done and it's only because I was so unbelievably thrilled Tuesday night that I actually felt inspired to finish this.

Much love to my homies; **miztrez**, **Medicat**, OAT, **Summer**, **Jutey**, **ChampS**, **Lil**, **Jenna**, **WaK**, Lalage, **Bellita**, and **Mindy**. If it weren't for y'all I would just scrap this whole thing right now. It's likely going to be a long while until the next chapter, but, thanks to your support, there _will _be a next one.

* * *

_Renesmee_

* * *

Thursday Night

"I assure you," I was very careful to keep my tone as neutral as possible, "I'm not looking for a lake monster."

"Oh really?" Her tone is still angry but her eyes are questioning.

"I'm looking for a man named Nahuel, not a mon- dinosaur."

She eyed me skeptically, "Who is he?"

I should have expected that question but, even if I had, I still wouldn't have had time to come up with a lie that quickly. And, even if I did, who knows what else she's heard me think, what she might hear me think in the future. Lying to her is a pointless invitation for more trouble. "He's a Mapuche friend of my Auntie, I think that he can help me figure some things out."

"What things?" Genuine interest wove its way through her tone.

"Who I am."

At that she frowned fiercely, "No woman should rely on a man for those kinds of answers."

I frowned back, "I should just count on you to do everything for me then? It's okay to let you run my life because you're a female?"

"No," her eyes flashed but the menace was gone, "I already told you, you need to learn to take care of yourself."

"Then why are you with me, telling me what to do?"

"Training," she grinned, "when you can stop me, you will be ready."

"That's circular reasoning."

She shrugged at me, still grinning.

"It's a logical fallacy." I explained slowly.

Rolling her eyes she shakes her head, "Again with that talk. I must not be wearing you out enough."

"Excuse me?"

"So this friend," she smiles slyly, "What kind of friend is he exactly that you would come this far from home to talk to him?"

There's no way I can explain this to her without either lying or telling her something that could very well get us both killed. And I've had enough of the Volturi for this century. Especially without my mother's protection to shield me. "Don't change the subject."

"I did not, we are talking about why you are here."

"We were talking about you bossing me around."

She turns to face me and grins darkly, "Are you going to stop me?"

I goggle at her and she takes a disinterested sip from her water.

"I did not think so." Shrugging she turned away again and fed a handful of branches to the fire, completely disregarding me.

So she never saw my fist coming.

Not that it did me any good. My wrist buckled and cracked on impact. She had me on my back so fast that I didn't even have time to exhale before the wind was knocked out of me and I was staring up at the inky monochromatic swirls of the infinitely starry sky.

"That was horrible, you have to keep your wrist straight, like this," she leaned forward from where she sat astride my waist and grabbed my hand to demonstrate the proper form.

She didn't care at all that I had swung on her.

"It is not like you can do anything to me like that, _mijita_," she snorted.

I wanted to hit her again.

"We will not have water to bathe until tomorrow night but if you want me to keep rolling you in the dirt we can do that." She cocked her head and shrugged nonplussed, like shoving me around was so easy it was boring.

Then she folded her arms across my chest and laid her chin on them, peering down into my eyes, "_Tranquillo, mija, _I am just playing. If I do not push you, you will not learn. When I am done with you I will not be able to push you around anymore, you will not need anyone." A wide grin split her face and she tousled my hair. "Then it will be your turn to make the decisions and I will follow you."

"Can I get that in writing?" I sighed exasperated from beneath her.

"So tell me about this boy."

"Would you mind getting off of me first?" I raise my eyebrows at her but she doesn't budge, watching me expectantly.

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes I mind. I will not move until you answer me."

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy were the borogoves and the mome raths-

"That is cheating, _mija_," she smiled and her eyes shone despite the admonishment of her tone. "_Dime_, if he has a girlfriend why were you licking on him like that?"

The memory crashed in on me, unbidden and as intense as if I were reliving it.

_Uncle Jass always said that the best way to learn control was to face your weakness head on, to push it as far you can. Only no one really gave me much choice. After five days I had been draped across my bed reading the same page of Crime and Punishment for the umpteenth time when there was a rap on the window. _

_Jake was normally late on days he had class; usually he and Quil stayed after practicing whatever they had learned that night. He was shirtless and slick with sweat. When I lifted the latch and let him in the heady scent of his musky cologne was overpowering in and of itself but, beneath that, the tantalizing aroma of fresh Type O negative seeping slowly from his battered knuckles was even more provocative._

_I inhaled sharply and met his eyes, begging with mine. He gave me his sad puppy look; he had sided with Uncle on this particular issue. But I was desperate, I gave him an even sadder puppy look and he inhaled deeply before sitting roughly on the edge of the bed, giving me his hand silently with his head turned pointedly away. _

_I've always loved how he tastes, the thick richness with just a hint of salt, like filet mignon. So warm and juicy that I salivate like Pavlov's dog just thinking about it; the creamy undertone of power flowing from him into me, filling me with him, with his essence._

She popped off of me abruptly in a single motion, a one-handed back flip. But then she leant down above me and offered her hand, pulling me to my feet.

"So why are you looking for this Nahuel then? If you want Jake you should go home and take him." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively in a manner not unlike how Jake would when he told a particularly stupid joke.

I pull my hand back, "It's not like that. And, even if it was, _I'm_ not like that. I just want him to be happy."

"You're in love with him," her tone implied she found this annoyingly obvious. "Who could make him happier than you?"

"The girl he's with," I sigh and try not to choke on my next words, "They're _meant_ to be together."

She eyed me skeptically but wrapped an arm around my shoulders, "The world works in mysterious ways, _mija_, you can not presume to understand destiny. That is why you must always be looking for _all_ the signs, not just the ones that make sense."

I snorted, "Well that certainly doesn't make any sense."

"Then maybe it is a sign," she smiled enigmatically and winked. "And you make no sense either. You had that boy half-naked in your bed and all you did was suck on his hand."

As she said it I was immediately engulfed in a significantly different recollection of him in my bed.

The dark depths of his eyes shining down at me as he ripped his shirt off, straddling me. The feel of his warm weight pressing down on my center, the rippling of his muscles as he moved and flexed on top of me. The sweet summer sweat tracing the lines of his torso with excruciating finesse. And then the heat of his mouth on my skin, the nip of his teeth at my throat. For the briefest of seconds before he flipped us I had held my breath in primal anticipation of feeling his large canines slide inside of me; had wanted him to bite me, to mark me as his.

"_¡Ay ay ay!_ You is a freak-a _chica, mijita_." Her wicked grin made me blush but she squeezed me comfortingly. "It is not a bad thing. I am one also. But I still do not understand what happened between the two of you."

An image of Daddy's rage teases the edges of my mind but I let it float past untouched, not wanting to invoke the terror of seeing him that night.

"What was that?" Her arm stiffened against me and she searched my eyes.

"What was what?" I stare back at her slightly alarmed.

"You did something and I could not hear you for a moment."

"I didn't d-"

"Do it again."

"Do what? I-"

"Whatever you just did."

I closed my eyes and unfocused myself; I let my consciousness sink into the background, let awareness pass through me without holding onto it, drifting unfettered within myself.

"I do not hear anything!" she grinned maniacally as I re-opened my eyes on her face.

"There wasn't anything to hear," she visibly deflated as I continued, "I just wasn't thinking anything."

Rubbing my shoulder she sighed, "Well, it is a start." Retracting her arm she stretched and yawned. "But that is enough for tonight. We should go to sleep, we have much to do _mañana_."

"More dancing?" I reciprocated the yawn.

"_Capoeira? Sí_, that too."

"Too?"

"If we are going to the Andes then you will need more strength training first and we need to change direction, go back north."

I looked at her quizzically.

"If you came to see the Mapuche then that is where we will go." She cocked a brow at me and smiled teasingly, "Unless you rather go home to Jake."

"If he were waiting for me, I would," I sighed dejectedly.

"So is Nahuel cute?" Her eyes sparkle with mirth as she tosses the refuse on the fire.

"It's not like that," I eye her sharply, "But, yes, he's beautiful."

She stuck her tongue out, "I do not like the pretty boys, I like the big rough ones. Your Jake is much more my type."

Blood suffuses my cheeks at her jestful words, though whether it is due to embarrassment or jealousy isn't clear, even to me. "He's not mine," I mumble half-heartedly.

Her smile widens but softens, "Men are stupid creatures, they do not know how to say certain things, you have to look at what they do. And from what I have seen, he acts like he loves you too."

"Of course he loves me," the vehemence of my own voice startles me as much as it does her, "Just not like that," I finish significantly softer.

Her brows draw together in a way that reminds me of when she spoke of her mother. "You can tell yourself whatever you want to believe. I know what it looked like to me."

The fire flickered its last few flames and she handed me my toiletries, letting her hand linger on mine.

I could have sworn I heard her whisper, "I hope this ends well."

"What?" I questioned confused.

"_¿Qué?"_

"Did you just say something?"

Her eyes narrowed, "No." She swung her eyes quickly over the dark campground, retinas flashing oddly in the moonlight. "Did you hear your name?"

"No."

We locked gazes and she spoke with great conviction, "If you ever hear your name when no one is there, _do not answer_."

"Okay but that's not-"

"I am serious," she grabbed both my shoulders, "_Never_. That is how they curse you."

"They?" I blinked stupidly, utterly perplexed by yet another shift of her mercurial moods.

"_Sí, las brujas de_ _la Borrachera, la Santeria, el Vudú, el Palo Mayombe, el_ _Candomblé, la _…"

By the time she stopped staring desperately into me and let go, I couldn't remember what I had thought I had heard in the first place.

* * *

**Endnote:**

_Tranquillo - _Calm down

_Dime - _tell me_  
_

_mija / mijita - _my dear one / my dear little one

_chica _- girl

_¿Qué? - _What?_  
_

_mañana - _tomorrow/morning_  
_

_las brujas de ... - _The witches of ..._  
_


	18. Mr Therapy Man

**A/N:** OMG, an update?! My apologies about the extended delay. Though things ended a couple weeks ago, end-of-term deadlines and emotional backwash have kept me quite preoccupied since.

Thank you so very much to everyone that offered condolences, it meant more to me than I can adequately express, helped keep me going through it all.

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Saturday

My good mood is gone in a flash. As Sam's smiling face swung into view I couldn't help but fear that Bella had somehow passed on her horrible luck to me. This week had to be punishment for something, it just didn't stop.

And I don't have time for this. How the hell am I going to get him out of here?

Under my breath I let out a string of the kind of words that keep the FCC up at night putting Parental Advisories on things as I held Sam's gaze and tried very hard to not flip out on him right off the bat.

"Jake." He speaks firmly and nods, curiosity in his eyes.

Damn it. "Sam." I nod back as slightly as I can, keeping my chin high and my eyes locked on his. This is _my_ territory and if he doesn't respect that I will not hesitate to make him.

I take quick stock of the room as I stay with my back to the door. Billy's nowhere in sight but that doesn't mean this wasn't his doing. And Lord help her if it was Leah because that's strike three. The thought of banishing her back to Sam's pack and the misery it'd cause the both of them has me half-grinning against my teeth.

"How are things?" He says it casually, the hardness dropping from his voice but his eyes are still stuck on mine, searching.

I stare at him until he starts getting twitchy before I force my forehead to relax and copy his tone, "Fine. How's the family?" I use the casual conversation as cover to make my way slowly past the kitchen, keeping by the wall but without looking away from him.

He stays still and turns his head to follow me as he crosses his arms, "Good. Luke's already doubled in size. And Emily…" he trailed off as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Has too?" I offered tauntingly.

"It's still just the first trimester." He scowls and I give him an I'm-just-playing grin. "And how's _your_ girl?" His mouth doesn't curl but it sounds like he's sneering to me.

I suppose I left myself wide open for that one. I really don't want him to know that I'm leaving but it's not like I could hide it from Billy anyways. And if it was Leah… "Fine."

"I hear she's done some growing herself."

Swallowing hard I manage to stuff down the growl that tries to jump out. I completely forgot that over half his pack was at Seth's party. I had been so wrapped up in Nessie that night that it had slipped my mind until just now. The idea they've been discussing her like _that_ makes my blood burn and I feel my lips pull back before I remember to stop myself again. Never in the house.

I force my tone neutral and smile jokingly at the bastard, "Kids."

"She hasn't been by in awhile." He smiles back, "You two should come over for dinner tonight, Emily would love to see her."

I don't realize I'm making fists until the bones in my hands crack. For the first time in a long time I find myself trying to guess at what he's thinking, what he knows. Does he know she's gone? Or just that something's up? If I knew that, I'd know who he'd been talking to. "As much fun as that sounds like, we already have plans."

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrows expectantly but I just tilt my head and shrug at him like I'm sorry about it. "Well, sometime soon then."

"I'll tell her when I see her," I say as I motion to the stairs. It's not a total lie, I fully intend to tell her about every single second of my week from hell so she could know to never do something like this ever again. At least not without taking me too.

"You know Jake, if you ever need to talk-"

"I know," I smirk at him and his BS, "Tell Emily I said what's up." That's right, bastard, you can go now.

He bristles and gives me a long look but I keep my smile from looking fake long enough for him to nod and walk slowly to the door.

I did lose it though when he paused and turned back to me halfway out the door, "Charlie mentioned something last night about his granddaughter being ill. How they had to fly her out to see a specialist in South America." His eyes sharpen on mine. "I'm so glad to hear she's feeling better."

The door shut behind him just in time for the kitchen table to smash against it. Great. Billy's going to be pissed about that. And since there's a chance that he didn't narc to Sam I feel kinda guilty. Until I remember that I don't have time to, I have a plane to catch.

I take the stairs in two jumps and a piece of the wooden railing broke off in my hand as I rounded the top at full speed. I just left it there in the hall, not even pausing. Compared to the table I had just destroyed this wasn't anything anyway.

After the quickest shower of my life I haul the duffel bag out of the back of the closet and rip off the Air France tags. And then I realize that Alice always does my packing for me and I have no clue what to take. What the hell do they wear in Argentina?

For a minute I stood there like an idiot before I remembered that I don't care and grabbed some shorts and a pair of jeans and started stuffing them in. I threw in the other essentials but paused again when I came back with my toothbrush. The leather jacket was draped over one of the bedposts where it had apparently landed last night when I threw it off.

It's the only warm clothing I have and it's almost December. But I don't think Nessie's ready for it yet either. I'm not even sure I'm really ready for her to be ready. Not like it's up to me though. Whatever Nessie wants, she's gonna get it.

I throw it on and zip up the bag. I shove the envelope and my passport into my pocket but it isn't until I reach for the keys that I realize I'd have to leave my car at the airport. If I drive myself.

Running there would cancel out the shower I just took so I grab the phone and dial the Atearas.

"Hello?"

"Quil! I need a favor, man."

"Jake? I was going to call you. One of the Cullens left, a taxi was pulling out when I got there last night."

"That's interesting," I wonder why Carlisle didn't mention that, "I'm leaving too, that's why I called."

"What? You know where she is?"

"The Doc and I sorta have a treaty."

"What about Seth?"

"I don't think I'm going to need to do much talking." I half-mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Can you give me a lift to the airport?"

Then I hear Rachel walk in the front door and ruin what was left of my day. "Oh my god! What happened in here?!"

"I'll call you back." And I hung up.

I could hear her freaking out before she came around the corner and caught me trying to sneak back up the stairs to climb out the window to avoid the coming lecture she was about to drop on me.

"Jake?! Are you okay?"

Damn her for being concerned. Now I can't just yell at her to back off. "There was…… an accident."

That's a good one, she won't think _that_ sounds the least bit suspicious and will just let me leave without any further questions. Riiight. And then I'll ride a magical unicorn to Argentina and Nessie and I will fly away to Neverland and never have to see either of our families ever again.

She crosses her arms and puts on her Mom Look. Crap.

"What kind of an _accident_, Jacob?"

"Look, Rach, I swear I'll take care of it as soon as I get back but I really need to go."

My voice must sound as desperate as I feel because she softens up again. "What's wrong?"

I might as well just get this over with, "It's Ness."

"Is she okay? Why hasn't she been over?"

"I'm still trying to work that out, that's why I gotta go."

I can see her starting to cave, "Are you going to be back before Dad gets home? I don't want to be the one that has to explain this to him."

"Uh, yeah, about that." I scratch my neck and try to think of how I can say I'm leaving the country without freaking her out. And then I feel like kicking myself for not thinking of it sooner. "She's been sick, I'm flying down to see her."

"_Sick_? _Flying_?" She tosses her hands up and the Mom glare is back full force, "Jacob _what_ is going on?"

If I don't walk out that door right now I'm going to cry. Like a little effing girl. "Rach," I can barely keep from shaking, "I've never asked you for anything, ever. Not even to not make out in places where I can see you. But I'm _begging_ you," I actually dropped to my knees in front of her and took her hand like a man praying for a miracle, "_please_ let me go to her." I hold her eyes and I can feel my face rebelling against what's left of my control.

"Oh Jake," She puts her free hand to her mouth and I swear I can see her heart breaking for me.

And then effing Paul walked in. "I pa- What the hell?"

I let go and popped up but kept my eyes locked with Rachel's, pleading as much as I could without speaking. After a second she gave me a nod and my heart began beating again. I pulled her into a big bear hug before readjusting my bag and reaching for the door.

But of course Paul had to go and open his stupid mouth. "So what's up Jake? Seen Sam yet?"

'Yet?' My hand flashfroze on the knob. No. Please do _not_ do this to me. Not when I'm _so_ close. I'll do anything just _please_ let me walk out this door.

I keep my back turned, like he's not a threat to me, but I keep my ears tuned to him, "What makes you think I would have?"

"Sounds like a yes." His tone is too happy and I want to drill my fist into his face until neither of us has any bone left to pound.

I can barely keep the growl out of my voice. "Sounds like you don't know how to mind your own business."

I was about to offer to _forcefully_ teach him how to when Rach cut me off with a warning look, "Jacob."

"I love you, sis." I call over my shoulder and brush past Paul to make good on my escape.

But there's something to the way that Paul calls out "Bye, _Jakey_" that has me on edge. Even besides how _wrong_ the Jakey part sounded. Stupid SOB.

I hope they don't have kids. I really don't want to share blood with him. But with the way my life has been going lately, nothing would surprise me.

I can't get to Quil's fast enough. I _know_ that if I don't get on that plane soon it won't happen, I can feel it in every single second ticking by. If this doesn't come through I'm not really sure what I'm going to do but it'll probably be gory. And I really don't know if I'll be able to stop.

**

* * *

Endnote:** Tick-tock-tick-tock...

**miztrez**, awesome word choice, that's exactly what I was going for.

**Jenna**, no spoilers but I did add the translations, if that helps.

**OAT**, it did, thanks :)

?, thanx :)

**Summer**, gracias for your concern, it got me back on the horse a lot faster than I might have otherwise.

**Kyzyl**, that was mighty nice of you.

Griffin007, I'm sorry you dislike the character so strongly but I do have my reasons. First off, Ness is half-human so I'm portraying her as physically weaker than a full vampire. Second, it hasn't really been revealed yet what Maya's deal is. And third, Nessie's led a very sheltered life and is subconsciously searching for someone to make decisions for her; hence her looking for Nahuel and why she was so quick to latch onto Fredrick even despite professing her distaste for him.

**Bellita**, and here I thought you appreciated the irony ;)

**WaK**, that was a line from one of my favorite poems. It wasn't a typo; it was Nessie trying to block her thoughts from Maya by thinking of something else.

**Jutey**, sorry it wasn't sooner, c'est la vie, I guess.

**ChampS, **I know it's been a slow build up but we're finally getting close to the good part. ;)

**Curious**, why thank you :)

**Ashley**, movie Jacob is way hot. XD Plus he's a karate world champion. Gotta love that.

TwiHard, I'm all for the First Amendment but criticism is only constructive when you don't limit it to sweeping generalizations.

gabby, :D

**Princess, **I hope you feel better.


	19. I'm Yours

**A/N**: First and foremost thank you to everyone who stayed with me through the hiatus, I really can't say enough how much it means to me. Sadly, I did lose a few of my longstanding readers and I'm very saddened by the loss. There was an anonymous review for Chapter 17 that I think might have been **razzle** or **Mindy** but thus far no one has claimed it.

On a lighter note, I thoroughly spanked my ten page term paper, "Entheogenic Practices of the Tukano Tribes" (I'm an Anthropology major by the way, though I'm partial to most of the Social Sciences). Hope everyone else is faring as well, I don't know about y'all but it's certainly been a rough semester for me.

And now a completely off-topic commentary; I _love _winter in Miami. Snow is tons of fun and all but I couldn't imagine living anywhere less temperate. My favorite time of year is when all the trees and traffic lights fill up with the migratory birds' annual arrival. The shapes that their flocks make every time a car honks are like the giant schools of fish on the Discovery Channel, like they're a single dynamic organism. And there's literally thousands of them, the telephone wires and lamp posts are wing-to-wing at every intersection. The other day I saw the flock of green parrots that escaped from MetroZoo during Andrew sharing a street corner with a big murder of crows (I don't know why it's called that but it's funny.) I wish I had a camera so I could share it with y'all.

* * *

_Renesmee_

* * *

Friday

The look on Maya's face told me that she hadn't expected me to be up on my own. Or, at the very least, not as early as this. She appeared for a moment to be consternated by my '_buenos dias'_ but it could have been because I had caught her in the act of dressing. I could see her collect herself as she finished buttoning her blouse. Which stuck me as odd since she had been in various states of dishabille in front of me over the course of our association without once displaying a modicum of modesty. And her outfit looked a lot like the one she had worn the night before.

"You are awake early." She frowned but it didn't seem to be aimed at me.

So I _had_ startled her. "My circadian rhythm has finally aligned to my present geographic location."

All I got in return was a blank stare.

"My sleep schedule has righted itself." I explained happily. Though not a morning person, the cavy blood was having a tangible effect on both my mood and my energy level. Although the sun was not yet up, I certainly was. And I was more than ready for whatever physical activity lay ahead of me.

"Oh. Good." Her tone hinted she thought it was anything but.

I chose not to call her on it; I'll take mendacious civility over sincere rudeness any day of the week.

Nor did it seem she even wanted a response, she was preoccupied with rummaging around in her pack. To which end she extracted a blue velvet drawstring pouch and a small sauce pan. The former she pocketed and the latter she extended expectantly to me, handle first. "Use this to boil what is left in the canteen."

I reciprocated her vacant expression until she added a hesitant '_¿Por favor?_' to which I smiled and accepted the cookery from her. The nod she gave me was distant as she turned and made her way towards a thick thatch of trees to the north of the grounds, leaving her pack where it lay.

Once she was out of sight I had a piquant urge to rifle through her bag and ascertain if she really had the foresight to pack all the things she kept pulling out of it or if it was some sort of magical bottomless bag enchanted to provide her whatever she wanted at whim. It was a fleeting thought, I immediately felt contrite for considering such a breach of trust and privacy. And felt more than a little fatuous for even thinking such a thing existed outside the world of Mary Poppins.

Honestly, it was no better than Jake planning for the zombie apocalypse he was so certain would happen any day now because, as he put it, 'if you and I exist, why wouldn't they?' Which seems like solid reasoning until you factor in that vampires and werewolves are cognizant entities capable of subterfuge while zombies are brainless beings and thus incapable of remaining inconspicuous by design. The only real life accounts of zombie humans are those associated with narcotic-induced dissociative comas that don't actually involve people dying. And we watched The Serpent and the Rainbow together, so I _know_ he knows this but he is adamant that it doesn't disprove the other types of zombies like those caused by a virus.

To say that we've had this debate more than a few times would be an understatement and every instance has ended in a stalemate with neither of us willing to concede.

Searching the scrub for more tinder was quite serendipitous in that I also uncovered an old metal hanger which I was able to easily fashion into a stand for the pot in order to suspend it over the flames rather than placing the implement directly into the fire.

The canteen was half-empty from our antics the previous evening but there was enough left to supply an inch or two of water. Despite the natural barrier the wooded area surrounding the camp provided, there was still an insistent enough breeze that it took a bit of contortion on my part to get the fire lit.

Fortunately all the exercise and stretching this excursion has afforded me has done wonders for my flexibility. I definitely felt stronger too. Much stronger. The hanger had been as pliable as a rubber band, yielding to me without even token resistance though it groaned and creaked the entire time in rusty protest to my manipulations.

By the time Maya returned with her clutch the first bubbles had just started breaking through the surface of the water.

"Here. _Cuidado_." Very carefully she emptied her pouch into my cupped hands, filling them with several eggs of various size and color.

The largest ovum was a dusty taupe and larger than any chicken could ever hope to pass without an episiotomy. The smallest ones, were tiny in comparison, about the shape and size of the pink malted milk balls Auntie Alice buys in bulk every Easter to use as decoration.

It was a sad day in the Cullen household when Auntie realized that pink simply did not suit my coloring. She finally got over it the following spring when she found she could content herself with making the entire house look like a pallet of Pepto Bismal had exploded within it.

From my first birthday on, Auntie Alice tirelessly endeavored to make each successive holiday as grand an affair as she coax everyone into letting her. And, for the most part, the rest of the family were push-overs; caving to her insistence that it was all on my behalf though her lavish parties and decorations meant little to me beyond the entertainment value of the others being so put out by her excessive preparations.

More often than not I'd snuggled against Jake a safe distance away, chuckling quietly as her orchestrations wheeled and dipped through my emotionally malleable loved ones, wheedling her way here and pushing a line there. She would often cast an impish smirk over a shoulder at us as she shuffled the others off to their assigned duties. Occasionally I would take pity on Mother, who was usually the easiest for Auntie to bend to her will. Aunt Alice had but to mention my name and Mom was only too happy to do whatever was asked of her. All I had to do was think of getting up to help Mother and Auntie would tell her to take a break then allocate her task to someone else, usually Auntie Rosie since Grandma was often in charge of the food and thus ensconced in her own preparations in the kitchen.

This had never seemed at all unusual to me, even when I noticed that Jake was more amused by the subtle manipulation of my mother than anyone else. Though he also always found it hilarious when Dad managed to get roped in to the festivities. But by my second Thanksgiving Daddy knew enough to time his hunting trips to coincide with the week before each holiday. At first Auntie started planning further in advance in order to catch him, but he plucked her plans right out of her head as soon as she hatched them and would be grinningly ready to deliver a counter-strategy before she had a chance to corner him unprepared. Daddy's clever evasions left Auntie much chagrined because Uncle Em couldn't be trusted not to prank the decorations and she liked to keep Uncle Jass free to be her gofer. Not that the end result was ever anything less than perfection.

It was precisely then that I remembered Thanksgiving had been yesterday, that I had missed it this year. And, on the heels of that revelation, it occurred to me that it had probably not been held in my absence since, aside from Grampy and I, no one in my family eats stuffing or pumpkin pie. Mother sampled the turkey one year but there had never been a repeat performance. The Blacks don't celebrate Thanksgiving at all; none of the Quileute do to my knowledge. But, predictably, that never stopped Jake from dropping by to eat his way through our leftovers, occasionally bringing Seth or Quil along to help.

I briefly wondered whether Jacob spent this year's holiday with his imprintee and her family. But then the two tiniest eggs in my palm jerked and I distinctly recalled the flock of green and gray _periquillos_ we had encountered during yesterday's hike.

"Here," I handed the twitchers back to my companion as I slid the motionless ones as gently as I could into the boiling water, "see if you can get these back to their nest before they hatch."

For a second I thought she was just going to dump them in the pot herself but then she hefted a much put upon sigh and disappeared back into the forest. Which was fortuitous since now I wouldn't have to worry about adjusting the cooking times, all the other eggs were approximately the same size except for the big brown one.

When the first rays of sunlight began streaking through the clouds I hastened to locate my bag and change before it got any later. I managed to extricate some tan capris and a white peasant blouse. I had three, maybe four days of clean clothes left, provided Maya's Magic Bag couldn't provide anything in my size. Judging by her callipygian posterior, her pants probably wouldn't stay on me without the aid of a belt.

"How sure are you that you need to see Nahuel?" Maya's voice preceded her as she trod into view.

I lifted my gaze from the pot and considered it seriously for a second. "Fairly certain. Why?"

"I just had an idea for your training." The enormity of her grin implied she thought it was a rather good idea. "But it requires leaving Argentina."

That thought disquieted me for reasons I couldn't fathom and I tried to reply ambiguously. "At the very least, I'd want to see him first. I _have_ come all this way."

"_Lo que usted quiere." _Her smile didn't waver as she shrugged like it was my loss. "I was just thinking we should get you a parrot."

"There's not much meat on them." Plus we have plenty of eggs that are almost ready.

She barked a laugh. "No_, mijita, una mascota_. A talking bird to sit on your shoulder."

"Oh!" My mind made the logical extrapolation instantaneously. "If I could teach it to mimic me, I'd be able to use it like biofeedback to know when I'm mentally projecting."

Her face was uncertain and her response halting, "I think so?"

I couldn't think of how to rephrase it less eruditely. "That's an intriguing proposal. It's definitely worth a try."

The smile on her face was unadulterated joy, like Clary when she shows Quil an A on one of her tests. "Parrots in Patagonia do not talk but there are many in the Amazon. I know a place in Brazil where we can hire a tracker. If we leave soon we can catch the end of hatching season. The younger you get them, the easier they are to train."

"As soon as I talk to Nahuel we can get on a plane." And I can get my privacy back. "You wouldn't happen to have a spoon or fork in that bag of yours," I queried eyeing how far the sun had risen. "All the eggs are ready to come out except the big one."

Her smile turned devious. Uh oh. "No. _No lo tengo._ Just grab them"

"Pardon me?" I'm not sure what to make of that.

Kneeling slowly next to me, she locked our gazes and, with a flash and a splash, snatched an egg barehanded from the boiling pot. "It's not deep." She assured me as she transferred the steaming egg to the bowl of cold water I'd already prepared. "And it's good training for speed and coordination. You must not grab them too tight or they will crack."

Well, if she can do it…

Thankfully my vampiric inheritance affords me quick healing. After a mere week my thigh scar was just a spidery little line and the skin of my hands had recovered by the time we finished our morning dance training. After the most perfunctory of warm-ups Maya had introduced me to much more advanced _capoeira _maneuvers. And she was moving through them much faster; apparently she had been holding back quite a bit more than I had initially assumed. Luckily for me, I'm a quick study. I was able to match her before the end of the session, despite her upping the speed and adding excessive flourishes.

By the time we stopped she was as winded as I, if not more so. But not enough to slow her down for long. Once we had imbibed a bottle of water a piece and re-shouldered our packs, she was already ready to go. With a big smile and a hop she was off and running up the trail.

Without even slowing she called back to me over her shoulder. "Last one to the lake catches lunch!"

"Cheater!" I yelled after her as I sprang to follow. As much as it invoked memories of goofing around with Jake's pack I didn't allow myself to be distracted by sentimentality; I refused to lose this race to her trickery.

Yesterday it took us the whole morning to cover the distance between the southern arm of the lake and the pampas south of the waterfall. I made it to the bank of _Lago_ Nahuel Huapi in just over an hour. It was a solid victory; I held nothing back and flew right by _mi amiga_, beating her there by a good twenty minutes. Sitting on the shore staring at the aqua _agua _waiting for her afforded me some time to regret my impulsivity. Perhaps showing off my superhuman speed was a hasty decision.

But when Maya came sprinting up and tackled me in hug that sent us rolling end-over-end I knew that it was a moot point. _"¡Usted ganó! ¡Buen trabajo! _You are very fast, _carnala_."

Blushing from her praise, I ducked my head to wriggle under her arm and out of her grasp before she could ask any uncomfortable questions. "Tag is one of my favorite games back home." Which was true enough but not exactly forthcoming either.

"Ah." Her tone had an air of epiphany to it, like my answer had explained it all. Maybe she didn't know what tag was.

If so, she wasn't asking. She had already pulled a wire out of her bag and was tying it in complicated knots to a long thick reed. When the sun glinted off the swinging hook I realized that she was fashioning herself a makeshift fishing pole. And she certainly wielded it with considerable skill.

After a big lunch Maya paid for our showers at the _refugios_ before we got back on our way. It felt so indescribably good to be clean. If I take nothing else away from this trip it's that running water is one of mankind's greatest inventions. But as our path turned westward into the towering mountains and the answers I hoped lay beyond them, the comforts of home were fading faster and faster from my mind. I could no longer remember what it felt like to sleep in my own bed and it hadn't yet been a week.

By the time I finally found Nahuel, just how much of my old life will I have forgotten?

* * *

**Endnote: **How much indeed? I wonder...

_buenos dias – _good day / good morning

_¿Por favor?__ – _Please?

_Cuidado – _Careful

_periquillos – _parakeets / small parrots

_Lo que usted quiere – _Whatever you want

_una mascota – _a pet

_No lo tengo - _I don't have it

_Lago_ – Lake

_mi amiga – _my friend

_agua -_ water

_¡Usted ganó! – _You won!

_¡Buen trabajo! – _Good job!

* * *

**miztrez**, good to be back :D

**Medicat**, sorry you had to wait so long. :)

**OAT**, I'd comment but I don't want to give anything away. ;)

**Ero**, I hope you make it this far. :)

**Jenna**, there's definitely some fireworks a-coming… ;)

**Jutey**, funerals are never a good impetus for a family reunion but it was nice to see everybody. I'm feeling a good deal better now. :)

**Kyzyl**, thanks :) I really liked Jake's sarcasm in the books but not so much the immaturity aspect so my boyfriend is my model for the testosterone level. More than enough inspiration in point of fact... I'm glad you think it's blending well.

**Summer**, intense is definitely what I was going for. This whole project has been a big experiment for me trying to weave in all the ideas and concepts I want to include. It's especially vindicating when people are able to catch the nuances and read it on a deeper level. ;)

**Distracted**, aww, thank you XD -blushes-

**sakura**, the timeline requires the chaps to be short right now but there's some juicy stuff coming up soon, promise. ;)

**WaK, **it was certainly supposed to be anxiety-inducing but the thing to remember about first person point of view is that the narrative is directly reflective of the character's opinions and biases. Pride and Prejudice was one of my literary inspiration for this story. ;)

akelly, it'll be cute again, eventually. :)

**Wezen**, that's certainly how Jake feels about it :D

**Twifect**, glad I didn't disappoint ;)

**ChampS**, and I love the love :D

**hayate**, If you type 'Nahuel' in the Google box and hit the Lucky button it takes you directly to the Wikipedia entry for Nahuel Huapi National Park, that's actually how I found it. ;) Thanks for taking the time to read and review; I hope the angst is of a tolerable level, sometimes I feel kinda guilty about how much torture I put poor Jake through.


	20. I Had Too Much To Dream Last Night

**A/N**: Once again, all my gratitude to my reviewers;** miztrez**, **Medicat**, **Ero**, **OAT**, **Jenna**, **Jutey**, **Summer**, **Kyzyl**, **WaK**, **Jess**, **ally**, **ChampS**, and **Wezen. **I know the Twilight-verse is a rather fluffy domain and I can't thank my aficionados enough for taking a chance on a dark horse.

And on a completely off-topic commentary; I _loathe _Miami traffic. When public school's in session weekday rush hour lasts from 2pm to 7pm, during holidays can stretch last until 10pm or later, even way out in Kendall. On weekends there's traffic from midnight to about 4am. Right now SoBe is bumper-to-bumper all day, everyday and don't get me started on the parking. I guess that's the price to be paid for living in a city where tourism and shipping are two of the main industries; South Dixie and the turnpike are getting to be just as bad as the freeways in Cali.

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Saturday

"Jake," Quil opens the door sounding so relieved that I'm insulted though I kept from showing it when I waved to his parents as we passed through the den.

The bedroom door was barely closed behind us before the interrogation began. "So? What the hell happened?"

"Nothing," I plopped on the bed, already feeling like I've been up all day, "Sam came by to piss on my leg and I took it out on the kitchen table."

"Sam? What'd he want?"

"Apparently everybody and their mother knows that Ness left the country."

"Really? I saw Jared yesterday and he didn't say anything."

"Was he at the Clearwater's last night?"

He shrugged, "I dunno, I was watching the Cullen house. Remember?"

"Yeah," I slapped him on the back, "You're a good friend, you know that?"

He winced but only slightly, "Nice to be appreciated."

"I'd appreciate you even more if you drive me to Sea-Tac."

"Right now?"

"Like ten minutes ago."

"But what about this Sam stuff, you don't think that it's a little weird? What does he care about where she goes?" He was quick to add, "No offense or anything."

"No, I get it. It _is _strange. Even if Billy said something it wouldn't have been about the Munsters." I hadn't thought about that, had been in too much of a rush. "Unless it was cuz Leah talked to him."

"Naw, man, she wouldn't do that. She doesn't want anything to do with him."

"There has to be more to it then just Charlie telling them she was sick. Paul sounded like he was straight up plotting against me."

"That's not good." Quil squints his eyes like he's in pain. "What do you want me and Leah to do while you're gone?"

"I-" had not thought about it at all. I was in such a rush to get out of there that I didn't think about what anyone else was doing or gonna do. That's not right. I'm their leader, it'd be messed up to leave them hanging like that. And what if there's more to this Paul thing? But without knowing what's up I can't exactly leave instructions on how to handle it. "-don't know." I finished lamely and tried not to wince at how soft it made me sound.

"So…" He's looking at me like he still expects another answer.

"I guess, just keep an eye on things." I shrug. "Until we know what they know, or want to know, then there's nothing we can do."

"Well…" he breaks off, not looking at me, gears grinding, "Jared _did_ mention that Sam's been kinda weird ever since Emily got pregnant again. He said Colin thinks it's that he's worried about his kids growing up to be wolves."

"But no one's changed in years!" Crap on a crap cracker. I can't have him effing with the vamps while I'm gone. Sure they're bloodsuckers, but they're family. And more importantly, they're _my_ territory. And Sam _knows_ that.

I guess we're going to have to pow-wow after all. "Call Leah."

He looks skeptical but starts dialing. "What do I say?"

"Tell her to clear her calendar for the next week because she owes me a big one and I'm calling it in."

His face scrunches but he knows better than to say anything. "Hey. Jake wants you to-" His face scrunched again. "I don't know." Then he turned to me and pointed at the phone whispering, "She says she's not doing anything unless you tell her yourself."

Oh for- I snatched the receiver from him. "You get to babysit the Crypt until your brother comes home."

"Babysit?" Her tone is skeptical, like I'm punking her.

"I'm leaving, I need you to make sure Sam doesn't pull anything."

"You expect me to take on Sam?" She sounds like she really can't believe it.

Neither can I. "Of course _not_. If there's an emergency you get Quil and call your brother too if you have to."

"You think there's a possibility of something like that happening and you're just going to leave?"

"I plan on talking to him first."

"When?"

"N-" Wait. I just blew him off less than an hour ago. If I went now it would look like I was backing down to his invasion. Unless I go in teeth bared. But I don't want to start something big just yet. For that I'd at least wait until we have full ranks again.

Well, he did offer dinner tonight. But he offered for me _and Ness_ to go. Plus I said we had plans. And it's not like I can tell him she's having family dinner at Charlie's.

Her voice startles me out of indecision. "Hello? You there? What the hell is going on?"

I hold the phone face down on a pillow and turn to Quil. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Uh, what time?" He seems hesitant.

"8ish, I think a guy's night out is in order. Definitely Colin and Brady. Gabe, Eli, whoever isn't on patrol."

He looks confused but nods, "After ten would be better but I can do 8ish."

I flash him a joker grin and pick the phone back up, "You start now. If I need you for anything else I'll call your cell." Then I hung up before she could say anything else.

Quil looked at me expectantly, "So now what?"

"I'm taking a nap. In your bed. Because if I go home right now I won't be able to get back out. You go do whatever you have planned, wake me up when it's time to go."

"Are you okay?"

Not yet, but soon. It _better_ be soon. "I just want to get a lay of the land with them, take some beers down to the beach and see where they stand. Hopefully one of them can tell me what's up with Sam."

"What about Jason and Riley? Or your brother-in-law for that matter?"

"Definitely no Paul and don't say anything to Jared in front of him either. I'm not sure about Heckle & Jeckle but I want to talk to them separately if I can."

The phone rang. Instinctively I tried to hand it off to Quil but he put his hands up like a poker dealer and shook his head.

"It's _your_ phone." I reminded him.

"Yeah, but it's probably Leah calling back."

It stopped ringing. There was a couple beats before his dad yelled across the house. "Junior, phone!"

I laughed at him and handed it over.

"Hello?" He smiled real big at whatever he was hearing, "Hey, kiddo. I was just about to leave. Yes I did. Of course! I love you too." He hung up and turned to me, "I'll see you later."

"I remember when I had it that easy too." I muttered a little too loudly because he paused and turned back to me, eyes big. But I don't feel like having an Oprah moment. I don't even know why that slipped out. Sometimes when my mind shifts gears too fast things just come out before I can filter them.

"I'm sure there'll be some weirdness for us later on. But it's always worth it, right?" He shrugged.

"No doubt." I give him daps and grin. It's nice having someone who understands somewhat, helps keep things in focus.

I kicked off my shoes and lay across the top of his comforter with my arm flung over my face. I didn't even hear him leave.

* * *

It was the zombie dream again.

Only this time it was different. This time Nessie wasn't with me when they started popping up. I had to go find her, to protect her because she didn't know they were coming.

And the zombies were different too. They weren't the insanely fast Rage Virus type that are usually chasing me. Not even the human-speed T-Virus type. They were the slow and rotting kind that were creepy in a way no old black and white movie could ever hope to be. The evil just poured off of them and made everything go bone-cold when they touched me. They didn't have eyes but when me looked at the holes I could feel them staring right into me.

And it was all in super hi-def, maggots and all.

But the worst part was that I never found her. I worked my way all the way from the Rez to her house, killing everything I could without getting bitten. It was like playing a video game. I switched back and forth between wolf and human without noticing any difference other than the type of fatality I was dealing out. It was fun at first but then I started to get real paranoid about getting to Ness. Just when it seemed like I was never going to make it in time to beat the zombies there, the Crypt popped into view.

All the lights were off and the doors were locked. I banged and called out that it was me, that I hadn't been bitten. I rang the bell and pounded the door but nothing.

I didn't want to attract the zombies there, I hadn't seen any for a bit and if we barricaded the house it would be a good place to post it up and make a stand. So I climbed the side of the house Spiderman-style and checked the windows. The last one was open but when I slipped inside I could feel the coldness before I even called out.

There was nothing but shadows on the top floor and when I got to the bottom Edward was there, waiting in the kitchen. And he was a zombie.

I hesitated. I shouldn't've.

Unlike the other zombies, he had eyes. But they weren't his, they were browner. And evil. Satanic demon evil. He didn't speak, because zombies don't, but his hand shot out faster than it should have. Much faster. And then he smiled down at me like the clown from It as the darkness pushing down on top of us from everywhere. And then the howling started.

I woke up panting like it was the middle of summer, so stuck to the bed with sweat that I had to peel myself off just to sit up.

Normally I enjoy the zombie dream. Normally I win. But ever since Nessie's been gone nothing in my life has been the same. It's all wrong. Everything's wrong without her.

The cold sun is shining right through Quil's thin curtains and the clock reads three-something. His desk is covered in piles and the minute digits are covered by a work shirt. Dusk is still a ways off and I really wish I hadn't decided to wait until tonight to do this. I thought I was going to sleep longer.

And now I have more downtime of sitting around waiting. Except now I actually have the ability to do something but can't use it until I take care of things here first. Though exactly why I'm doing that is already starting to get fuzzy. The more I think about it the more I think about just taking off and dealing with it when I get back.

I sat there for a minute really _really_ considering it. Then I remembered the time I fought with Sam back when Embry left. I've earned my pack by blood, I can't leave them to him.

But I can't be without Nessie any longer either. If I don't get her home safe _and soon_ I'm not going to be of much use anyway; I'll end up killing Sam or one of the others. And if I don't find something to distract myself fast I'm going to end up driving myself to the airport right now.

Right on cue my stomach growled and made the choice for me. It must have been fate because half an hour later when I walked into the diner, the two heads that popped up in the end booth gave me hope that my luck was _finally_ turning around.


	21. Those Were The Days

**A/N: **Happy Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Winter Solstice!

I meant to post this last night but my boyfriend surprised me with a trip to Santa's Enchanted Forest. Every year Tropical Park undergoes a magical transformation replete with several hundred thousand twinkle lights, overly tacky animatronic displays, rickety theme park rides, crackhead carnies - basically it's all the skeeze of a low-budget carnival bedecked with all the trappings of holiday commercialism. Aside from the inhumane conditions they keep the animals in, it was a blast. Hope everyone else's holidays are as happy.

* * *

_Renesmee_

* * *

Friday Night

That evening I was the one to provide supper; an older coyote with resigned eyes that reminded me far more of Jake than I would have liked, to the point where the heart was the only part I could bear to consume. Fortunately Maya was more than happy to prepare the meat and perform her odd little burial ritual, leaving me to ruminate about my never-would-be lover in solitary reflection.

When she joined me after dinner, it was apparent she could see that something was bothering me. I fully expected her to pin me down and glean answers out of my reluctant mind like she had in the past. But she didn't.

Her taciturn companionship surprised me; at the very least I had expected her to try and distract me with some cheerful chatter. Instead she sat silently beside me, enjoying her after-dinner cigarette in quiet contemplation broken only when she offered me a puff. At any other time I might have been affronted by her trying to indoctrinate me into such a distasteful habit. But she extended it to me with no expectation in her gaze, like it was just a polite afterthought.

Perhaps that's why I took it. Or maybe I had wanted to reaffirm the sense of equality that our relationship was acquiring.

It seemed that the more time we spent together, the more our traits were reaching equilibrium with each other. As I advanced in my training, her shortcomings were becoming more apparent. I knew, beyond a doubt, that if I bolted on her she would never catch me. That her shorter limbs put her at a reach disadvantage when we sparred and that it was only her obvious experience and bottom-heavy center of gravity that enabled her to match me at this point. Her quick choppy movements would never possess my grace and my agility was equivocal to hers with less than a week of instruction. As I grew increasingly acclimated to the situation and opened myself up more, she became more reserved, less showy and dramatic.

Her countenance that evening had been remarkably different in the absence of her ever-present smile. It struck me then for the first time that she was much older than I was even pretending to be. Her outward appearance suggested she was in her early twenties but the world-weariness seeping into her eyes spoke of years beyond those she wore visibly.

I took a slow pull off the cigarette and felt it roll expansively in my throat. The secondhand exposure I had been subjected to had permeated my pulmonary capability, allowing me to inhale deeply with only a miniscule amount of coughing. However it was still enough to sanguinate my face and incite dizziness.

She didn't laugh. When she apathetically accepted the fruit-flavored cigarette back I realized that I wouldn't have been surprised if she had. Or, at least, treated me to an explanation on proper smoking technique. But she didn't say a thing, taking a hit in introspective silence and passing it back without making eye contact or even turning her head. Moreover, she maintained physical distance; sitting close enough to hand the cigarette back and forth but not even a grazing touch as it passed between our hands.

We sat a while like that, lost in our respective thoughts. But as the silence grew between us my ruminations turned to pondering about her newest behavioral shift. Solemnity didn't suit her. On Maya that kind of quiet looked like depression.

I reached over and stroked her back, pressing on the tension coiling through her shoulders until I could almost hear the thoughts buzzing around her head that had put it there. Her back slipped away from beneath my fingers as she turned to hand me the cigarette once more. She gave me an endearingly open smile as I inhaled so I extended my arm around her to pull her into a half hug once with my free arm.

The effect was immediate, the inner voice of her thoughts focusing into sharp clarity as the length of my arm met the warm patch of mocha skin exposed by her low-necked blouse.

She had been reminiscing over a lover she had taken in her travels. Though the language eluded me, the tone was palpably axiomatic like the words were being translated for me as she thought them. The stream of pictures and accompanying emotions was easily decipherable; flashes of smooth chocolate skin covering long skinny limbs that had embraced her both in the gym and in the bedroom. And, in the back of her mind, buried deep in a pit of murky self-doubt and dark rage, I gleaned an image of her catching him embracing another.

As I reached into her memory with my consciousness trying to bring perspicuity to his face it contorted and became enshrouded in a deep scarlet haze. Almost immediately, she jerked against my probing, swishing the thoughts away like a flushing toilet.

"Men are dogs." She spoke so quietly I wasn't sure whether it was a thought or if she had said it out loud. But then she turned her head to me, eyes suspiciously shiny, and leaned further into my embrace.

A fitting double entendre of commiseration threatened to pop into my head before I tamped it down, rubbing supportive circles across Maya's rhomboids. "The problem is that God gives men two heads but only enough blood to run one at a time." I intoned sagely, willing myself not to recall the night I left. Only a week had lapsed yet it felt distant as another life in a dark damp universe light years from the colorful sun-drenched vistas I now roamed as freely as if I'd been reared amongst them.

Maya snorted in agreement with my comment, more resigned than amused. But I felt her appreciation of my sincerity, that I hadn't cloyed her with erroneous platitudes, as she snuggled subdued into my side, like a housecat settling into a lap for petting and recounted a tale of her childhood in Mexico.

"Once when I was a little girl, my mother met a traveler who spoke of a woman, living in the mountains to the southwest in Oaxaca. The man told her that María was a wise shamaness that would teach anyone her healing, even foreigners."

Maya turned and plucked the cigarette from my hand and inhaled sharply from it before continuing. "My mother was amazed to hear such a thing. A _lady_ shaman teaching anyone who asked and so close? She knew at once she must go. I was young but we were alone in Mexico, everyone in mother's family lived in the Amazon and my father-"

Another deep drag punctuated her pause and I was inundated with a deluge of information that threatened to drown both of us. My hand moved automatically with practiced motions seeking to soothe her.

Quirking a grateful smirk up at me she launched back into the role of raconteur. "Though I was young, she did not know how long she would be gone. There was no one she could leave me with so she took me. It was not a long journey, only a few days by car. The Mazatec were very kind and gave us our own hut to stay in. During the day _mamá _would help the women do their work and at night she would study the ways of the shaman."

Her voice rose as she became more animated, the glow of the cigarette tip making orange trails against the backdrop of the night as she gesticulated with her hands. "One night my mother was to help with a _velada_, she was to be gone all night. She tucked me in and told me to stay inside. But I was not afraid of the dark. There was _una gata_ with kittens living under the shed out back and after mama left I went outside to see them. Down the street I saw _una vieja_ I had never seen before. Her skin was very white."

Playfully, Maya pinched my arm to illustrate her point. "Even whiter than you were when I first saw you. She was very beautiful and very quiet. _Entonces_ I was almost inside when I heard the wind make a terrible noise. When I turned around, there she was at the fence, staring at me. I was so scared I hid in my mother's bed until she returned. That was when she told me the story of _La Llorona_, the crying woman looking for her lost children."

Though she was calm as she paused and extinguished the cigarette her emotions were tumultuous and her thoughts labyrinthine. There was a gravity to her gaze as she turned to me, "You see, when we asked the villagers no one had seen such a woman and the little boy down the street was gone." Everything in me went cold. "And I'll _never_ forget the way she smelled."

* * *

Saturday

As I crested the peak, a blast of cold wind whipped around me, stirring my honey-toned locks like one of Uncle Em's more voracious greetings. At this altitude the air was decidedly thinner but the past few days of training and climbing had acclimated me enough that it was only a passing observation. I took a deep lungful of the sweet clean air, basking in the simple pleasure of a sunny day spent in the beautiful outdoors. From this elevation I could trace the waterfalls rushing into the expanse of lake swelling to fill the eastern horizon, reflecting the deep blue hues of the sky like a silvery mirror wreathed by the spectrum of blossoming spring foliage laid out in an Impressionist-worthy panorama.

And everywhere there was all manner of variegated avian and quadrupedal life sporadically emerging; from the Cheetos-colored teeth of the nutrias to the startlingly blue gape of the cormorants.

A few dozen yards back down the rocky trail Maya was still steadily making her way up to meet me.

My ephemeral exposure to her tutelage had indurated me enough that I had been able to ascend with celerity, leaving Maya in the literal dust. Despite all her impressive physical prowess, my hostess was nowhere near able to match my land speed now that I had found my footing.

Truth be told, I took a perverse delight in the reversal of situation. Granted she was still quicker with her hands and feet, but, as long as I was out of arm's length, she couldn't touch me. And, quite ironically, now that I was certain that I could easily divest myself of her presence I found myself quite less inclined to do so. In fact, I found myself rather enjoying the whole excursion now that I had gotten the hang of it.

Not only was I besting her uphill ability, my _capoeira _talents were already at a comparable level to her own. During the second half of this morning's training I found that I was able to enter a state of automatism; reading her kinesics well enough to predict her movements and adjust to her accelerations with fluidity I hadn't known I possessed.

A fact which seemed to have her in a bit petulant _este mañana_. Even if she didn't voice a single corroboration, I could sense there was something stirring at her that, much to my chagrin, echoed my own initial reaction to her athleticism. It was unpleasant to think that I had harbored similar envy and I certainly felt no right to call her on it after she had brightly accepted my former petulance with such aplomb.

Nor did I tease her or offer falsely bright encouragements, just smiled and stood patiently. It's easy to be magnanimous when you're in the lead, I had found. And it was so nice to be feeling more like myself again.

The past couple nights of girl-talk and bonding had been a cathartic purging for both of us. To the point that Jake's name no longer invoked anything more for me than pleasant recollections and subdued yearning; the once throbbing ache of his absence obfuscated by Maya's unconditional acceptance and sympathy.

As much as I didn't want to trust her, it was hard not to divulge when every confession was met with understanding and reassurance. And now that I no longer felt physically inferior, it was hard not to view her helpful instruction and continued financing of this endeavor as selfless generosity.

And, as much as I'd prefer not to admit it, the steady diet of blood I was receiving from the local fauna had me feeling better than I had in months, setting my mood to rights and restoring my perkier side. Maya had encouragingly noted the amelioration of my mood, taking advantage with bad puns that provoked girly giggle fits.

She also, rather wisely, refrained from speculating, at least aloud, about what the impetus for my more genial sense of humor was. Though I had caught her appraising me visually more than once, she never tried to broach any uncomfortable mention of my overly evident idiosyncrasies; instead grinning widely at me whenever I caught her perusals, meeting my questioning gaze with a knowing one.

I mulled this over a moment or two before her sudden appearance at my side snapped me from my reverie. It was rather startling that she had been able to sneak up on me like that; she was a fount of noise, whistling, singing, and humming, that I was usually able to locate her solely by sonar.

"_Esta noche dormiremos aquí_." As she spoke she indicated an expanse of blue glacial valley. "Crossing the ice will be _muy peligroso_, better to wait for morning light to be safe."

The sun still hung at a steep angle above the snow-capped peaks. "There's another couple hours of daylight," I frowned, "Why wait?"

"Relax, _mijita_," she grinned at my impertinence like it was endearing, "The village is right on the other side of the next mountain. We'll be there by lunch tomorrow."

* * *

**Endnote:** Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow...

**miztrez**, I'm flattered that you think so :)

**OAT**, I wholeheartedly concur with MR - there's _always _room for zombies XD

**Medicat**, you're probably right, Jake's subconscious just isn't all that rational about somethings ;)

**Summer, **the title comes from an oldies song that I thought was rather appropriate. Glad you liked it. :)

**Jenna**, I just needed to vent a little, it took me two hours to get home that day and I was all kinds of worked up. I took it out on the punching bag and that helped quite a bit. ;)

**WaK**, crap on a crap cracker is, unfortunately, not mine. I stole it from SeaLab2021 because I thought it was hilarious and find myself saying it a lot. :D

**Kyzyl**, hopefully he won't mess it up... ;)

**Bellita**, I'm so glad you're back XD

**sakura**, I hope so too. If not, let me know :)

* * *

_velada - _all night vigil_  
_

_gata - _cat_  
_

_vieja - _old lady_  
_

_entonces - _then_  
_

_la llorona - _the weeping woman_  
_

_este mañana - _this morning_  
_

_Esta noche dormiremos aquí -_ we will sleep here tonight_  
_

_muy peligroso - _very dangerous_  
_


	22. Wish You Were Here

**A/N**: So I found the most amazing brownie-things on allrecipes dot com – melt-in-your-mouth chocolate covered caramel with a buttery shortbread crust. OMG are they goooood. It took like three hours to make 9 of them but they're so decadently rich that you only need one. Thankfully I only bake like this once a year, otherwise I'd be visible from space by now.

Also, just to clear things up, I'm not a guy, gay or otherwise. Never have been, never will be. My avatar is Princess Toadsuke from Supah Nario Bros. because the first time I read that panel I lol'd so much I almost wet myself. And why can't a girl be into fighting? Gina Carano kicks major ass. And why should my gender or sexual orientation matter anyway? What does any of that have to do with my writing?

Sorry, don't mean to soapbox but I got a PM that really ticked me off. Hope everyone enjoyed the holidays. :) HBO put TrueBlood Season 1 on OnDemand and my sister, my boyfriend, and I watched all 12 episodes in 2 days. And they're hour-long shows; not half-an-hour, not 44-minutes-plus-commercials, one full hour each. That's how hooked we were - we sat and watched 12 hours of TV in a period of 48. And that's only because my boyfriend had to go to work, otherwise it would've all been in one shot. Seriously. Definitely 'Mature Audience Only' though - it's very racy, being cable and all. But if you don't mind a little soft-core, check it out.

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Saturday

This is perfect, it almost makes up for how the smell of the floor cleaner reminds me of the lemonade Ness made at this year's 4th of July barbecue at the Crypt. How she smelled like she'd been soaking in it as she fed me the five pounds of hamburgers that Esme made even though Bell's the only one of them that ever eats any. The vamps that is. Ness doesn't count, she's alive. And I can't even think about the possibility of her being otherwise.

I have to get this shit done and get to her before I go crazy and start talking to myself. Or go on a murderous rampage through the entire Olympic peninsula. Most likely the second option. Good thing it looks like things are starting to go my way though, I'd been wanting to catch the two of them away from the rest of their pack.

Jason and Riley have a weird sense of humor that tends to start shit when they're around their boys but not so much when they're on their own. They're the youngest wolves, the last to turn when the Volturi came.

They were also a bit too cocky for my liking but they follow orders well. Sometimes a little too well from what Seth says. A little too enthusiastic about some things.

"Well, well , well," Jason gave me a half-ass salute from where he was sprawled out on a red vinyl benchseat across from his twin.

Riley stayed hunched over his plate, but he raised his Pepsi at me like a toast before taking a big swig and returning to his sandwich.

I parked myself at the last stool, the one closest to their table, and ordered some burgers. High school kids or not, they were still big enough that we'd be on top of each other if I sat with them. And none of us wants that. The only way I touch another guy is to hit him.

Especially with how my week has been. "Haven't seen you two around lately."

They looked at each other then gave me the same grin but only Jason answered. "You're the one who hasn't been around, old man. Just up and disappeared when Seth did." He gave me that wiseass look of his that I hate. The one that means he's gonna get stupid. "Up until you walked in I was pretty sure that you two had run off into the sunset together." He made gooey eyes to emphasize what he meant. I haven't seen the twins in a minute and I _just _sat down but already it's starting.

This is really not the right time for this clown to be trying to get a rise out of me. It took every inch of willpower I had not to bitchslap him. My biceps twitched and flexed against the impulse but instead I cut a sharp glare at Riley before he could encourage his brother by laughing at that lame excuse for a joke.

It wiped the smile right off his face. Riley tried to out-stare me for a second before dropping his eyes nervously which made Jason straighten up and sit at attention. Good.

I couldn't have planned this better. Silly kids, you can't hang with the big dogs. "Did you catch the game last night?" I asked as I locked eyes with Jason.

Jason likes to hear himself talk. And I think somehow he's convinced himself that everybody else does too just because Riley never tells him to shut the hell up. And for the most part, somebody really should.

But right now it's working to my benefit. He launched into a play-by-play recount of the neck-and-neck back-and-forth that ended up going on into overtime.

On any other day I'd be interested but right now all I want to hear is _where _he watched it without directly asking him. I hate having to go all out of my way backwards but I can't let it get to Sam that I'm asking around. Sam already knows too much as it is, as far as I'm concerned. Way too much.

Riley laughs at something and Jason starts doing a cheesy impression of a sports caster. It's funny, I give him that, but not like Riley makes it out to be. Sometimes I'd swear they're retarded.

But I don't say a word, just eat as slowly as I can make myself and nod along to the highlights. It sounded like a good game. I would've liked to have seen it but there was no way I could have sat still last night. I _needed_ that class. I already needed another and it hasn't even been 24 hours.

Jason's gone off on a tangent about the Huskies impressive victory over the Cougars last season. This is _so_ not the direction I hoped his yammering would go. Not being able to just ask is frustrating and these kids are really starting to annoy me. Like I care about the new uniforms the cheerleaders are wearing this year. Who gives a shit about their skirts? Why am I not on a plane instead of listening to Ms. Fashion here in this greasy diner?

But then he says something that catches my attention. "Betcha Bloody Mary would look great in one."

He better not mean who I think he means. "What was that?" My chest has gone so cold that my voice had ice in it and Jason freezes up under the look I'm giving him. Riley's gone still too but I can smell the adrenaline shooting off both of them.

So he _was_ talking about her. Which means that he's probably _been_ the one talking about her, both of them were at Seth's party after all. Looks like Jason just caught my bad luck.

He still hasn't answered me, isn't looking at me. He's watching Riley who's trying to tell him to cool it without actually saying anything. Good advice. A tad late though.

"You two still working out?" I put enough alpha in my voice that both their heads snap to look at me and they respond instantly even though they're not part of my pack and aren't really required to.

"Yessir." They answer in that weird synced up way they get sometimes.

Fantastic. Now I have something to do to kill time until tonight. This'll be even better than class.

I smirk at them, in my head I can hear mad scientist laughter and the something-scary-and-possibly-violent-is-about-to-go-down horror movie background music. It's all I can do to keep from doing a Mr. Burn's style 'Excellent.'

Release the hounds.

"Well," I sneer, "Doesn't look like it. Sure you're doing it right?"

They both darken but their traps stay shut and their eyes stay on me. They're learning. _Excellent_. Mwahahaha.

"Pay for your shit, we're leaving." They turn, unsure, to look at each other. Can't have that, I don't have time for back talk. "I'm going to show you what _real_ training is. Unless you _girls_ can't handle it."

That gets their attention back on me, where it should be. Neither of them has the balls to step to me but I can tell it pissed them off. Good. It'll be more fun that way. I'd love to see them try something, it'd make my day.

I'm already going to enjoy smacking Jason around as it is.

Jason laughs but it's nervous as hell. "My, what big teeth you have, gramma."

I don't get his stupid joke but I do know he just called me grandma and calling me a _girl and old _was just about the _dumbest_ thing he could have done in his position. When I get a hold of him I'm going to punch him in the throat and then enjoy watching him try to breathe. Might even do it twice. Just for shits and grins.

"Jake, man, what's up with those fangs?" Riley keeps his voice down but there's an edge to it. Caution? Fear? "You turning into one of them?"

I spin on my stool so I can see my reflection in the stainless steel plating on the back of their booth. Sure enough, all my teeth are big and sharp. My mouth's trying to shift without me again. It looks pretty bad-ass though, like a movie werewolf or something.

But Heckle and Jeckle are about to go into Attack Mode. The drive to kill vamps is stronger than their fear of me. Time to change that. I let my face go a little further, so they can see what's really going on.

Riley gets it first then they both go almost white, white as I've ever seen one of us go. It'd be funny if I wasn't still so pissed. I rein it in before anyone else can notice. Not that there's much of a crowd, just the guy behind the counter who's busy cleaning the grill and a couple of ancient old ladies sitting way over by the window that probably can't see this far anyway. But still, I don't want to do anything to risk my chance of getting on a plane tonight. At least not in public, in broad daylight. Well, slightly overcast, but it's basically the same thing.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" I keep the wolf in my voice and they all but scramble out of their seats and over to the register. I'm already having fun.

I swallow the last of my burger and try not to think about how much better it would have tasted if I had had Ness feeding it to me. How much better everything is with her there. Pounding the idiots should help though. Time for a little stress relief.

But when I go to pay the guy tells me that the twins already took care of it. Almost makes me feel bad for what I was about to do to them. _Almost_.

However our trip to the gym didn't go exactly as I planned, I didn't maim either of them. But it wasn't a total waste. Aside from me getting to let off some steam with the weights, the brats actually stayed in line. Once they saw me work the bag they were falling all over themselves for some personal training.

Seth was definitely right about the obedience thing. I had them following me around like puppies, racking the plates, fetching me protein shakes. It was like having slaves. Except they wanted to do it. When it came time to show them how to spar, I let them practice on each other instead of laying them out myself. But only because they'd figured out not to mouth off anymore.

They were pretty useless as far as information went. Sam doesn't tell them shit from what I can tell. Not that I thought he would, but it was worth a try. And now they both hero worship me, I could see it in their eyes when they saw how much weight I could put up. Both of them seem more than willing to accept me as an alpha. And neither dared breathe a word about Ness again. Luckily for them. Which meant that I didn't have to go to jail for a double homicide, which was lucky for me. So it was a win-win all around.

I even let them know what was up with the evening's festivities, even though they're 'technically' underage. They're physically old enough, done growing and nearly as tall as I am. Nowhere near as wide though, I think I'll show them wide-grip lat pull downs next time, that'll fill them out quick. And it definitely wouldn't hurt to have the two of them in my corner, if anything they'd be two less threats to worry about.

By the time I got to Quil's house to shower and change, I was in a damn good mood. I'd worked off most of my anger and things were looking up again. I had travel money, two potential new allies, and it was already dark, I was only a few more hours away from riding out to rescue my princess. From going to get what's mine. _Finally _everything was starting to come together.

Mrs. Ateara answered the door and stood looking at me like I was a ghost. That can't be good. Why is she just staring at me like that? "Uh, hey Mrs. A. Is Quil back yet?"

"Jacob?" She still looks off. "What are you doing here?" She wasn't like this when I saw her earlier. I really hope this doesn't have anything to do with her talking to Billy or Rachel, that they hadn't called here looking for me.

But it was way worse than I could have ever guessed. "Jacob, why aren't you at the hospital with your family?"

* * *

**Endnote**: Time keeps on slipping, slipping into the future.

**WaK**, I know it's been a long set up but for Nessie to, as you put it so aptly, _evolve _to the extent she has, the transition simply couldn't be rushed or it wouldn't have been believable. But now that the two storylines have caught up with each other... ;)

**Medicat**, I love your enthusiasm :D

**OAT**, there was a lot of groundwork to be laid, not all of it readily obvious. They won't be alone for much longer though, promise ;)

**Dilidilzz**, thanks :) On the Road was one of the literary inspirations for this story.

**Jenna**, and _Feliz Año Nuevo_ too :)_  
_

**T3am**, gracias :D

**crackfic**, love the new name XD

**Jutey**, Merry _Navidad _:)

**gabby**, :D !

**Monkey**, usually I do an edit just for flow and I apologize for being remiss. I'll definitely try to space out the 4-dollar words in the future. And thanks for the pointer - it was precise enough to be helpful and that's always appreciated :)


	23. What's This

**A/N**: Ain't no party like a South Beach party cuz a South Beach party don't stop! Wednesday night we went to a New Year's party and we didn't get home until around noon on Friday. You know it was a good party when it takes you a day to sleep it off, even if you can't remember most of it. j/k I didn't get _that _trashed but we did spend a couple nights at the condo.

And a big thank you to my buddy **crackfiction **for adding me to her angst/drama C2. Gives me the warm fuzzies all over :D

Hope everyone else had fun ringing in 2009. Only a couple more weeks and it'll be a whole new era (the audacity of hope, lol), I can hardly wait. I suppose y'all can't wait either so - enjoy and** please review**, it's how I improve. :)

* * *

_Renesmee_

* * *

Sunday

The sun's glare on the ice was blindingly bright. And the ice itself was as slick and unremitting as frozen concrete, slippery as the slimy-skinned porpoises at Grandma's isle. Even with the aid of the 'cramp ons' that Maya was kind enough to let me use. Her apparently bottom-having bag had yielded only a single pair and my escort was doing without so that I didn't send myself careening down the smooth slopes.

Initially, my inchoate physical prowess had tricked me into thinking I could handle this unaided. But my balance was worthless without traction and the very first step onto the frosty blue-tinged plane had been a rather rude awakening, delivered directly to my coccyx.

Surprisingly, Maya didn't laugh at me. Nor did she offer any teasing encouragements like she did the other night when she taught me to dig holes with my fists. Merely handed me the metal spikes that could pierce my boots to the ice - the cramp-ons which she, rather knowingly, hadn't bothered to strap on yet. That simple gesture invoked Auntie Alice so strongly that I was almost winded by the influx of memory.

During the month or so between my birthday and my departure, Auntie had rarely left my side, doting on me like I was a wounded baby bird, attending to my every need before I even manifested it. And her sweet eyes never judged me, only loved, and perhaps pitied, but never blamed. Not that I had noticed at the time, I was so divorced from my feelings that it was like I had completely lost contact with my humanity. Mother could hardly be in the room with me without getting overemotional, even once I threw myself into my fruitless research project.

Most of the time it had been my aunts and grandmother whom tended to the day-to-day minutia of my physical necessities; food, hygiene, blood. My doting aunties had bathed and dressed me religiously every morning, taking turns on alternate days. At first they had quibbled about which of them got to outfit me for the day before Grandma mediated a compromise. Daddy and my uncles had wisely recused themselves from being sucked into the dispute, though Uncle Em got some cold-shoulders for cheering Rosie on during one heated exchange where Alice had inferred her fashion sense was the epitome of tackiness. Apparently those are fighting words where I come from.

None of this had phased me at the time, they were all just so much white noise in the background of my struggle against nihilism and depression. Now all I could think about was how I needed to make amends to them all. Assuming of course that my little round-the-world jaunt had indeed upset them, that they haven't decided that they don't want me back now that they're outside of my sphere of influence.

Lost in thought I misaimed my next footfall and it glanced off the angled ice, to the side. Gravity grabbed hold and pitched me sliding down the incline, ripping my other foot out from under me. Head first I plummeted, tobogganing on my parka-clothed stomach like an Olympic luger, except with the wind-blasting velocity of a rocket during reentry.

Suddenly the icy white horizon bloomed into the gaping graduated cerulean maw of one of _los molinillos_ that Maya had made a point of pointing out. Steep icy shafts of death formed by the spring melt. And I was speeding straight into its unforgiving Ant Lion embrace.

And then my right foot jerked powerfully, sending a world-stopping whiplash up my spine.

"_¡Te cogí!_" Once again it was Maya to the rescue. "Nessie, very carefully I need you to turn and grab onto me so I can pull us up."

Very slowly, I twisted my torso, did a modified sit-up and complied. Maya had anchored herself to the sheer ice with two axe-like picks which she wielded like portable ladder rungs to haul us back up to the level surface above.

So much for all my progress. "Thank you." I whispered once we were safe again. "I would have been lost without you."

She beamed like a spotlight and yanked me up onto my feet. "_Igual, mijita_."

And that was it. Not a single reprimand. She didn't tease me or mention it at all. The only concession she made was walking beside me instead of continuing to lead the way like she had been prior.

We traversed the rest of the glacier slowly and uneventfully and by the time I was back on terra firma the setback was all but forgotten. I was back to bounding up the crags like an over-caffeinated mountain goat frolicking in the temperate spring sunlight, ready for the next adventure as Maya brought up the rear, audibly amused by my enthusiasm.

* * *

Much to my chagrin, the word 'village' had conjured up for me Hollywood-influenced notions of some sort of pre-industrialized communal settlement replete with poverty-dilapidated architecture and filthy livestock. _Villa Pehuenia_ was none of those things. It was a quaint and tidy little mountainside town situated on the idyllic little _Lago Alumine_ and adorned with all the modern amenities.

The main roads were well-kept and boasted a continuous flow of light traffic. We were able to hitch a ride in to town with a couple of muscular young guys, teenagers if their slang was anything to go by. Miguel offered to let Maya have his seat up front but she insisted on sitting with me in the back seat of their Jeep 4x4, amongst the dirty, thick-tired mountain bikes.

He didn't seem too thrilled about her declining the offer, he spent the whole ride into town turned around backward in his seat barraging me with questions that ran the gamut from polite introductory inquisition – name, age, et cetera - to those that pried into more personal arenas – _"¿Tienes un novio?"_

Fortunately Ms. Maya was exceedingly adept at deflecting him to less intrusive topics whenever she sensed any reluctant reticence on my part. What might have otherwise been an energy-draining interrogation was whittled into tolerable pleasantries by her coy levity. I found myself paying infinitely more attention to my Tukano friend, and her deft social maneuvering, than either of our new acquaintances. She just made it look so easy, handling them expertly without the aid of dazzle or any other supernatural gifts of manipulation. Even managing to finagle a amicable demurral of their dinner invitation without being the slightest bit rude about it. If anything, they seemed almost completely undeterred by her response, smiling and winking as we parted ways with them.

Once unencumbered by unwanted escorts, we leisurely strolled down the main thoroughfare, swallowed up by the excited bustle of the local Ngüllatün preparations.

"_Cada año, los Mapuches_ have a festival to make offerings to the Sun. It lasts for the three nights of a full moon. Every year they sacrifice their best animal to ask for fertility and prosperity." Maya explained as we made our way through the colorful throng, eavesdropping on the surrounding conversations for any mention of our target.

"_Usualmente Nguillatun es en marzo pero_ they have had a bad time here lately. Last month disease killed many of their cattle so they will have the ceremony early so they can pray now to Nguenechén for help. _La proxima semana _is the full moon of December."

In her typically affluent fashion, Maya procured us _una cabaña_ with more than enough room for several people, courtesy of _Posada La Escondida. _The woman at the reception desk was extremely accommodating. And chatty. I decided to use the opportunity to garner information on our quarry, see if she knew him or of him.

But as soon as Nahuel's name was mentioned, her calm Spanish switched immediately into rapid Mapudungun. Which I, of course, was unable to follow. When her discourse had run its course, I was about to thank her and take the room key when Maya replied to her in kind, though it lacked the proficiency of fluency. Her response was short and stilted, but the clerk understood it and smiled, waving us off.

I waited for Maya to play the part of interpreter and recount the conversation for me but instead she just whistled the "Colonel Bogey March" and surveyed the woods as we hiked off in the direction the concierge had indicated.

Finally I took the initiative and just asked her. "So, is he here?"

"He?" Confusion flitted briefly over her face before she laughed. "No, _mijita_, she said that she had heard a rumor yesterday about a wildcat being spotted in the forests of the park. The natives are very excited about it."

"One of them got off the island? Tigers are known for being one of the few felines that swim; why would she get so excited over that?"

Maya's smile melted off her face like I'd poured paint thinner on a portrait of her. "_Porque_ everyone thought that they were extinct in this area. This is the first one anyone has seen in many years."

Oh. "That's a shame." And it wasn't just a consolation to her latest mood shift; Grandpa Carly had taught me all about the importance of the niche occupied by keystone predators in their ecosystems. Their current rate of depletion is nothing short of tragic as far as I'm concerned.

She nodded solemnly, silently. Then something occurred to me. "If you've only been here a fortnight, how do you know the language?"

"Antiman Quezada. We met in Honduras." Shaking her head at something known only to her she sighed deeply and frowned.

Again I waited for her to expound but to no avail, she remained introspectively taciturn before brightening abruptly and changing the subject. _"¡Mira! Allí esta."_

Our cabin was by far the most exorbitant accommodations the village had to offer – complete with satellite television, internet, and even a reading nook with a tiny library. Trimmed with weathered brick and rustic wood, the brightly painted cabin with its lake view balcony was a far cry from the bucolic of the _refugios_ that I had been expecting. A realization that shamed the newfound worldliness I had been striving for and once again I internally chastised myself for such prejudicial thinking. I really should stop making assumptions about things I apparently know nothing about.

Neither of us felt the need to unpack right away. I was much more interested in inspecting the bathroom and reacquainting myself with the joys of cleanliness. While I set to ridding myself of the layers of dusty travel accumulated on my skin, Maya ordered room service for us before departing, announcing her intention of interviewing the locals about our _'Vato Misterio,'_ as she'd taken to referring to Nahuel. Despite the vibrancy humming through the town in its anticipation of the coming festivities, Maya seemed solely interested in getting in and getting out, like this was a strictly top-secret reconnaissance mission.

More and more often she appears to be possessed of a dual nature, vacillating between silly and somber in a sporadically random pattern. And lately the light-hearted farceur has been disappearing more and more behind her stoic, almost saturnine qualities. Logic dictates that there has to be some sort of stimulus triggering the changes but the timing of all the acute instances has just seemed so arbitrary.

Perhaps I'm mistaken in assuming it's more complex than it is, perhaps it's just the real Maya starting shine through her network of socially constructed behavioral responses. I've only known her a week, perhaps this is just her starting to let her guard down. Maybe the extroverted jester persona is just a façade.

Maybe it didn't really matter either way.

At that moment - immersed in the glorious wonder that is clean, hot water - I really didn't care all that much what she did or where she went. I found I was rather more interested in experimenting with all the single-portion scented potions provided by the hotel's custodial staff. I'd never been one to indulge in girly beauty regimens back home but, having gone so long without feeling sanitary, I was overdue for a little pampering. The biting winds and rough terrain had chapped my skin; the long hours of outdoorsy training had callused my hands and feet. Both my aunties would be horrified, would probably insist on cosseting and grooming me themselves. The hand lotion even smelled like the potpourri sachet Auntie Rosie keeps in her silk drawer – roses and sandalwood.

Maybe I'd e-mail them when I got out of the tub - if I could ever pry myself from this fragrant aquatic nirvana - just to let them know that I missed them, that I was okay. Half-submerged in lavender-scented waters, I fell asleep wondering if my family had even noticed that I was gone yet. Surely they'd have found me by now, if they cared to.

And I awoke rather abruptly to the very vocal return of my fellow adventurer. "Why are you sleeping, _carnala_?! Get up, get dressed! I found him!"

* * *

**Endnote**: Wakey, wakey.

**WaK**, 'sardonic' is a fantastic word XD

**Medicat**, yeah, this portrayal is definitely more 'doom and gloom.' It's so nice to know that it's appreciated :D

**Jutey**, at least it wasn't the longest an update has taken, lol :)

**OAT**, why thank you :D I incorporate so much of my boyfriend's attitude for this interpretation that sometimes it almost feels like stealing. Then again, dealing with his über-aggression on a daily basis makes me feel kinda entitled to reap some kind of benefit from it, lol. The snarkiness is all me though.

**k8ex10**, _gracias _:) Hope you feel better.

**crackfic**, that's so funny! XD Are they twins too?

**Jess**, thanx :D This story is withdrawal-free, promise. ;)

**miztrez**, Jake is rather spine-tingling isn't he XD

**KFA**, thanks for all the reviews. I hope you make it this far :)

**Jenna**, you weren't ready for more before? ;)

**Kyzyl**, I hope you were referring to the situation and not the writing, lol :)

* * *

_los molinillos – _the moulins (nearly vertical shafts or cavities worn in a glacier by surface water falling through cracks in the ice)

_¡Te cogí!_ - I caught you!

_Igual_ - Ditto

_Villa – _town/village

_Lago – _lake

_¿Tienes un novio? – _Do you have a boyfriend?

_Cada año - _Each year

_Usualmente Nguillatun es en marzo pero – _Usually Ngüllatün is in March but

_Proxima semana_ – Next week

_una cabaña – _a cabin

_Posada La Escondida – _The Hidden Pass

_Porque - _Because

_¡Mira! – _Look!

_Allí esta – _There it is

_Vato Misterio – _Mystery Dude


	24. Black is Black

**A/N**: Back to school, back to school… sigh. I already have 200 pages to read by Monday. Ick. Well, freedom was nice while it lasted. At least it's my last semester, woo hoo!

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Saturday Night

Carlisle grabbed me before I even saw him, yanked me into the X-ray room as I rounded the sterile white corner of a hospital hallway. That's how out of it I was, didn't see him coming, didn't smell him. Didn't even block him.

My first instinct should have been to resist and neutralize the attacker but I was caught so off-guard that I didn't even realize who he was until I heard his voice in that dark, beeping room. "You're here." He sounded shocked. Join the club.

Normally this would be the cue for me to make a smartass comment somewhere along the line of 'No shit? Nothing gets by you, Doc.' But right then even _I_ wasn't in the mood to hear it. Not right now. "Is he going to be alright?"

In the dim stripes of colored light I can see that he wasn't expecting that either. The cold hand on my shoulder starts moving, something between a pat and a rub. "Ah, how much do you know?"

"It's his diabetes, right?" Mrs. Ateara hadn't gone into detail, didn't have time. That was all she managed to get out before I took off.

The shadows and red light shift over his face as he nods slowly, seriously. "He's starting to experience renal failure. It's an end stage of the disease."

There was a pause, a hesitation, before he said 'end stage.' A bad pause. It gave me a flashback of Dad telling me about Mom. "End?" I repeated shallowly.

The hand tightened on my right trap and he looked me in the eyes. "There's still a good chance that you or Rebecca will be a viable option."

"Rebecca's here?" My stomach sinks, it has to be really serious if it got her to come.

To my very brief relief, he shook his head slowly. "Not as of yet. But as far as I know she's on her way. "

So it _is_ that bad then.

"And Rach?"

"She, ah, isn't an option. But she's still here. She's in with your father right now. They brought him in just before noon and she's been here ever since." Dr. Frankenstein's watching my reactions with the intensity of a mad scientist checking for cracks in his latest monster. Like I'm broken.

Maybe I am. It feels like I could be. I've got to get this done and get out of here. "So how do you check me?"

He's adjusts his glasses and goes into full on medic mode. "Under normal circumstances, the standard procedure is to run a few specific tests - HFR, EKG, an abdominal CAT - to assess organ viability and check for possible complications." He stops and takes off his glasses. "But in your case, with your, unique, physiology, you have a much lower than average risk potential. You're an almost ideal candidate."

Then why did he sound so worried? "_Almost_?"

The hand left my shoulder and he stepped back, wiping his glasses, his human prop, as he answered. "Well, you're not entirely human, Jacob. You have an extra chromosome pair that has expressed itself both phenotypically _and _genotypically. You may have inherited this ah, gene from Billy but as he is only a carrier…" He stopped fidgeting and trailed off, standing statue-still like Bells used to before she re-learned how to act like a human. Then Doc shook it off and patted my shoulder again, smiling weakly. "It's all just speculation at this point. We need to get started on the preliminaries so I'll need to take some blood."

"Always thinking about food, eh Doc?" For a second there I thought Doctor Doom was gonna tell me that it was completely hopeless. But he wouldn't bother with this if there wasn't a shot so I feel relieved enough to recover my sense of humor.

He chuckles and pats the back of my shoulder. "Shall we then?" But then his smile faded into seriousness and his fingers pressed their coldness through the back of my shirt. "Or did you want to see your family first?"

I don't know whether or not I want to see Rachel. A stupid thing like Paul or me destroying kitchen table doesn't seem like such a big deal right now. But it's different odds with Dad right there. Who knows how long this is going to take anyway even without me getting in trouble. In the back of my head I'm still thinking about getting on a plane as soon as possible and just moving out when I get back if anything.

"You said we'd better get on it now, right?"

His icy fingers flexed and he hesitated for a second examining me again. But then he cracked a genuine enough looking smile. "By all means. I am feeling a mite peckish."

* * *

"You better not really be taking any of this for yourself." I warned only half-jokingly as he took the sixth vial from the vein in the crook of my elbow.

He chuckled as he corked it. "As I said, I have to run a few different tests with your sample. I know you share your blood-type, and at least half of your human leukocyte antigens. But I have utterly no idea how your blood will react to his and I more than likely will need to ascertain a few different variables during this process." He answered without looking up, scribbling something on the label. The scene of him swirling the dark red fluid around in its test tube, combined with his spotless white lab coat was very mad scientist, like he was preparing some big project to impress the Evil League of Evil. Or like those scientists in the beginning of 28 Days Later. The ones that made the chimps go effing crazy with zombie Rage.

I flicked the barely bloodied alcoholic cotton ball across the room, I'd stopped bleeding almost the instant he took the needle out. The cotton whapped against the flap of the orange hazardous materials can before sliding down and dropping inside. Two points. ….woo...

"So when are we going to know?"

"Well, I can't exactly just send this off to the lab. Plus there are a quite a few tests that I'll need to run. And if you pass this first round," he smiled kinda guiltily, "then I'll have to take some more."

"So, if I'm a perfect match and I pass all theses tests. Then what? What's it for?"

He looks blankly at me until I feel uncomfortable. So I grill him. Not enough that I can feel my face do its new half-shift trick but still more than enough to wipe the disturbing look off of his.

My voice goes Alpha all on its own. "Well?"

He gives me another weird look but answers immediately all the same. "In the event that you are a compatible donor candidate, I could have you prepped for surgery before sun rise tomorrow."

Surgery? I get a stomach-turning image of Doctor Horrible here slicing and dicing me up, getting a noseful of my blood and then going all Doctor Satan on me instead. "To do what exactly?"

He grimaces but there are no awkward pauses this time, he answers straight off the bat without being prompted. "To remove one of your kidneys and give it to your father." I narrowed my eyes at him and he smiled placatingly. "You have two and each of you only requires one."

I hate needles. I rather get hit in the face than get a shot. Or have someone digging around inside of me, playing with my entrails like when that whiny over-grown Harry Potter wannabe gets eaten by the zombie mob in Shaun of the Dead. I wish there was someone who I could hold accountable for this whole thing. Someone that I could hit and feel better. First Ness and now this. It's like somebody hates me. I just wish it was someone that I could knee in the temple until one, or both, of their eyeballs popped out of their head.

I know it's not the Doc's fault but when he told me all that stuff I really wanted to hit him. Smack that pitying look right off his face. His kind doesn't die of diseases. Because they've already died of a disease. Like zombies.

Actually, they die, rise from the dead, and feed from people that'll turn into them if they aren't destroyed while being eaten. Vamps are a lot like zombies actually. Except zombies don't think.

And it'd be okay to kill him if he was a zombie. Killing something might've made me feel better. Though even if Doc was the zombie undead, as opposed to the type of undead that he already is, killing him would still break Nessie's sweet little heart. Nessie.

Whatever then, I need to get on with this so I can get out of here already. Get on my real mission, my purpose. "And after that you won't need me anymore? I'll be free I to go?"

That's when he broke eye contact and ran his hand over his face like he was suddenly very tired. "Theoretically, yes, you could leave as soon as you were fully healed." He frowned and looked up again. "Average recovery time for this type of procedure is two to three weeks."

_Hell no_. I open my mouth to tell where he can stick that idea but he beats me to the punch.

"Of course, you will take considerably less time to be up and going again but due to the nature of organ removal I'll have to insist that you not board a plane until I've cleared you for discharge."

"So how long are we talking here?" This is so not good. I can't believe I stuck around and missed my chance to go to her.

"I don't know, Jacob. There's no precedent for this sort of thing." Matter-of-factly, he grabs his clipboard and makes to leave. "I know you're anxious to get out of here so I'll streamline the process as much as I can and get started on this," he patted the pocketed vials, "right away."

He's almost to the door when I stop him cold. "Worst case scenario, what happens if neither of us is compatible? What do we do then?"

Turning back slowly, he gave me a sympathetic look and put a hand on my shoulder. "Unfortunately, your father's illness disqualifies as him from the potential recipients list since it's a progressive disease and he's so far along." The cold grip tightened a little. "A donation from a friend or family member is his only hope of acquiring one. But without a functional kidney, he'd be completely dependent on a dialysis machine. Most likely, in that event, he'd be confined to the house if not his bed."

Sighing , he paused. He was still touching me, hand was still on my right deltoid. Still as cold as Queets River in the dead of winter. Still cold as death. He stopped and started a couple times, fumbling with his words before giving up and just spitting it out."To be perfectly honest, Jacob, I'm not sure even finding a healthy donor would give him more than a few more years." He met my eyes and the sad look there made my stomach bottom out even before he finished speaking. "I'm sorry, Jake."

* * *

**Endnote**: The Misery Chick strikes again.

**crackfic**, aw thanx XD

aims, muchas gracias for your support :)

**waiting**, I love 13th Step :D Pet and Weak & Powerless were inspirational fodder. Actually, every chapter title is a song - I post links for each one on my Profile, as well as pics of places and animals mentioned in the Spanish chapters.

**WaK**, there was a famous Mexican wrestler, a _luchador_, named Rey Misterio, which means Mystery King. But I thought Mystery Dude sounded funnier :)

**Jess**, yeah, I speaky Spanglish ;) Here in Northern Cuba - a.k.a. Miami - that's how we do it.

**Jutey, **time for phase 2 :)

**OAT**, :D

**Summer**, ;)

**KBBG**, wow, thank you. :D You're too kind.

**Distracted**, that's always nice to hear, thank you :)

**Kyzyl**, I didn't take it personally ;)

**my hubby, **greetings and salutations. Feel free to leave us much feedback as you like, it's always welcome :)

**Jenna, **this chapter should have answered your question, but if not, I guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out ;)


	25. The Stranger

**A/N**: Wowzers, I got so many wonderful reviews that I was inspired to sit down and bang this out in one sitting. Then I had to go back and edit the heck out of it but still it's like twice the length of the last few updates. Just my way of saying you guys are great and that I couldn't do this without y'all. Big ups!

Mrs. Meyer gave an interview somewhere where she mentioned that Billy had lost use of his legs due to Diabetes. Prior to reading that I had thought that it had been the car accident that killed his wife so it really stuck with me that he had the disorder and it had already progressed to the point of neuropathy, if not worse.

As always, Spanish translations can be found at the very bottom. Y'all are probably going to need them for this one. And a big thanks to **Lil **for her help.

* * *

_Renesmee_

* * *

Sunday Afternoon

Life was good. I was clean and smelled absolutely delightful, if I do say so myself. All the sweat and grime of the past week had been thoroughly exorcised like not even the _refugio_ showers had been able to accomplish, let alone the frigid lake water. Moreover, the late afternoon sun was starting to set behind the monolith-carved skyline, creating a breathtaking layered effect. The tangerine sun cast soft pinks along the underbellies of fluffy purple clouds scattered across the azure sky. It was clear, it was cold, and it was beautiful.

And never before had I ever felt so light. Though I had already put on a couple pounds of muscle, there was a spring to my step like I was walking on some tiny planet with only a fraction of Earth's gravity. We had left the heavy packs back in the cabin and without the familiar weight pining me to the ground I felt positively floaty.

We hiked leisurely along, watching the spectacle of Villa Peheunia's decorations committee in full swing disappearing slowly below our trail. The moon hadn't yet risen but in the highest dome of the sky, the brightest stars were beginning to peek through, coruscating like diamond chips in the darkening velvet of early night. Twilight in the Garden of Eden.

Maya was infectiously happy, bouncing along the trail. Singing Strawberry Fields Forever in Spanish, shimmying her hips and dancing ahead of me as if she was the one who had crossed almost eight thousand miles to see Nahuel. It felt more like I had traveled several parsecs, it was hard to believe I was still on the same planet. And yet I knew logically that I had seen only an infinitesimal amount of what was out there. The magnitude of scope was astounding. I felt so minuscule and yet so connected all at once as I hummed along to her happy tune.

I'd never felt more alive not even when.... Well, yes, then but there's nothing I can do about that now.

Shaking it off before it can hurt me, I grabbed my friend's hand and dance-skipped along with her. Finding her made this all possible, I would have never been able to find this place on my own. Not without her.

"_De nada, era fácil_. All I had to do was ask some young girls if they knew any beautiful Mapuche men. They all said the same story, that they never met him but they knew where he lived." She flashed her tongue ring before sombering just as quickly. "Your friend is very popular but they are cautious of his mother." Her grip on my hand tightened significantly. "They say she almost never comes into town and only at night."

"Huilen is very nice," I promised, "she just keeps to herself."

Maya eyed me critically for a moment before shrugging in acquiescence and pulling on my hand to quicken the pace.

Night had almost fallen when we rounded the south side of the slope in time to watch the fiery sun dipping into the Pacific Ocean as the village twinkled star-like behind us. Above us, the last few rays bathed a Swiss-style chalet the size of a ski resort in a golden orange glow.

My companion squeezed my hand with both of hers. "There it is. _Hemos llegado_."

Just as we reached the edge of the yard's well kept perimeter, the heavy wooden door swung open. And there he was.

"_¡Ay! _They weren't kidding_,"_ Maya breathed beside me, "_¡__Ándale__!" _

Still as a Renaissance statue and just as striking in the spectrum of the fading sunlight stood my reason for being here, waiting for us. Before today I had thought that my memory was eidetic but I definitely did not remember him being this beautiful.

"_Verdad_," Maya all but giggled in agreement as we practically skipped up to him like silly schoolgirls.

The dazzling smile he flashed us did nothing to help and it was all I could do to keep from laughing at Maya's exaggerated reaction as we stopped a few feet from him, grinning like idiots.

To cover my giddiness, I promptly stuck out my hand in greeting. "It's so nice to see you again, Nahuel. Up until now, I had no idea how far you had to travel to visit us in Washington. It was most gracious of you."

His eyes sparked in recognition and his smile softened into a more decorous one as he reached for my hand. But the second his skin made contact with mine an electrical impulse shot up my median nerve with such ferocity that it triggered a flexor reflex and my hand yanked away from his grip faster than even my eyes could follow. Behind me Maya sniggered in amusement.

Politely ignoring my social impropriety, he smiled diplomatically. "It's always a pleasure, Renesmee."

"What did he call you? What language is that?" Behind me, off in the periphery, Maya stuck out her tongue in distaste and I felt my face flush hotly in response.

Which was further compounded by the ineffable look Nahuel was giving me, his face was carefully blank but the way he was staring made me feel very strange. Just this morning I had felt invincible, racing up and down mountains in the sunny and exotic Andes so fast that - on the tallest peaks, above the white of the clouds, surrounded by only clear blue sky – it felt like flying, like a dream. I had felt so in my element, so sure of myself. And now I felt like I'd digressed instantaneously back into that naïve little girl sitting all by herself on a sandy blanket trying to figure out what she had done wrong. Only I wasn't alone anymore.

"This is my friend Maya." I tried to cover my discomfort by directing his attention to my much more socially adept companion.

With a nod and a grin, Maya strode forward, stuck her hand out assertively and gripped his tightly when he shook it.

He smiled affably but it didn't reach his eyes and he flexed his hand discreetly when she manumitted it. "Charmed."

As soon as he spoke, Maya leaned in intently, standing on her tiptoes to gaze at him eye level. He leant back without stepping backward and his face became a mask of aristocratic aversion. "What ar-"

Nose wrinkled and lips folded back, she hissed and shoved him away with a sharp palm to the sternum that was strong enough to launch her backwards as well. She skidded into a half-squat next to me and spoke in a raspy voice that I'd never heard her use before. "Get behind me. Now."

"What-?"

She swung her head to fix me with a look of pure incredulity. "_Dios mio_! Not now, _mija_! Just do it!" Her eyes flashed in a way photon physics could not explain in terms of the current lighting conditions. They were wide and wild like a hunted animal. It occurred to me then that she was probably about to do something irrevocably impetuous.

"Maya," I started calmly, reasonably, like I was trying to talk down a suicidal jumper, "Nahuel is my friend-"

Her hand snaked out and grabbed my mine as she began yanking me away from him hard enough that the ball and socket of my shoulder threatened to part ways. Nahuel watched us still-faced and silent, eyes tracking her but flicking to me every so often in an appraising manner.

"_Él es un diablo_." She ground out as her fingers cinched vice-like around my carpals.

"_Pensé que era un dinosaurio,"_ I tried to joke diffusively but it fell flat at her glare.

"_Esto es serio."_ Maya snarled snapping my focus back to the conversation. All the while she kept craning her neck trying to keep both of us in her sights even though we were standing on opposite sides of her.

Nahuel had retained enough balance to remain on his feet but he had slid back at least three or four yards. Without so much as a word he straightened himself, no sign of forthcoming retaliation. Then hands folded primly behind his back and an expression of slightly patronizing patience, he had watched our exchange with muted interest, mouth quirked. He was an icon of civility juxtaposed against the rocky, wild terrain that surrounded us and Maya's decidedly rude behavior.

"_¡Tienes que escucharme! ¡Tu amigo es malvado! No puedo protegerte y luchar contra él a la misma vez_._"_

"_Señorita, usted sabe que puedo hablar español, ¿verad?_" He intoned sounding somewhat bored despite the quick glint of amusement in his eyes as they met mine. He cocked his head slightly to address me as though Maya wasn't standing in-between us. "Is she always like this?"

Her face darkened and she started coughing strangely. It was quickly becoming apparent that her mood would not to be so easily appeased this time, her body strained with tension so thick I could feel it roiling in the air around her like the pressure drop preceding a thunder storm.

I reached for her shoulder, "Don't -" But on contact a jolt went up her spine and straight down my arm, distracting us both momentarily.

Her head swiveled to look undividedly at me and she searched my eyes in a slightly desperate way before straightening out of the defensive crouch her posture had descended into. Leading me by my hand she began dragging me swiftly back down the pebble-strewn path we had followed there.

Her anxiety was palpable as she kept glancing back at where Nahuel stood thoughtfully observing our retreat. "Maya, what -?"

"He is dangerous, _mija_." She cut me off with a fierce whisper, hand clenched around mine, warily watching Nahuel making a point of examining his nails with dignified interest. "We have to get away from here, from him."

Snatching my hand from her before I could think about it, I answered as sternly as I could. "I've known him since I was only a year old. He did my family a great service and I'm not leaving here without talking to him, let alone storming off rudely with no explanation. So I'll thank you not to embarrass me any further." I finished in a low but furious voice, hoping to spook her off what I heart-stoppingly feared she might already know. Then, pantomiming a righteous huff, I turned on my heel to trot back to where the man I came all this way to see stood waiting patiently, the man I left behind my family and Jake to find.

My recently increased daily intake of hemoglobin had sharpened _all_ my senses. As Maya reached for me from behind, I could feel the air part to make way for her hand. Simultaneously I had a crystal-clear recollection of the other night; a fact I hadn't realized I'd known until just now and how I could utilize it to my advantage.

Not even turning around I warned her off with an authoritarian air and a thick accent. _"Maya Anna María Rosita Nabtama._" I wielded her full moniker like a reprimand, like her mother used to. And it struck the same chord with her, the air currents ceased instantaneously and without seeing her I knew she had frozen in place. For half a heartbeat I felt penitent for employing the memory of her deceased matriarch against her but then I felt the moment of vacuum that denoted an expedient retraction of the offending appendage.

When I turned around to visually confirm that she wouldn't try to stop me again I registered a look of incredulity painted on her features that was almost comical. I met her surprised look steadily, letting her know that I wasn't trying to instigate her but likewise would not be deterred. The gravity of her shift in countenance allowed me to refrain from laughing at the gaping look she was giving me. But Nahuel had no such qualms.

A tenacious twinkle of courteously repressed amusement in his eyes managed to slip past his politely feigned indifference. Then he glanced to me with what looked curiously like approval and a touch of something I couldn't name but he kept from voicing whatever was dancing behind his gaze. Though he may not have known the implications of the exchange, the overt exhibition of power I displayed seemed to have caught his attention.

I didn't really care for how he kept assessing me like I was a particularly confounding piece of Cubist Expressionism but he had been nothing if not genteel - almost overwhelmingly so - so I did my best not to fidget under his perusal as I walked back to him.

In the interim, Maya scaled back her expression and stood at the ready like she was a member of my personal retinue awaiting the instruction of her mistress. If I had considered the possible ramifications of my impulsive name-calling beforehand, the respect now radiating off of her certainly wouldn't have numbered among my hypotheses for a potential outcome. Apparently I was the only one who thought my admonishment had been out of line.

Regardless, the effect was the same and she remained motionless as I approached the stoic Mapuche. Moving in closely and keeping my voice low I apologized on my companion's behalf. While I spoke I watched her but she was completely focused on Nahuel with a disturbingly electric intensity that he was tactfully ignoring, though the tips of his lips were curved into a slight frown. That was the only overt evidence of discomfort he displayed and the tone of his response was pleasant albeit a little too formal for me to feel at ease. But he accepted my reparation with the same courtly manner he had held himself with thus far. He had a dignified air about him, old world society mannerisms that invoked memories of Daddy. Probably because he was almost fifty years Daddy's senior.

In fact, I calculated quickly, being born in the 1850's, Nahuel would have lived his first five decades during the Victorian era. His birth can't have been more than a few years after the Brontës died, he might even have overlapped Charlotte. I'd have to ask him, if I could just get him alone. Or at least out of earshot of Maya.

"I admit that I have an ulterior motive for traveling thousands of miles to see an old acquaintance." I struck what I hoped was an facetious tone so that he'd know I was making a joke.

It got rid of his frown but the smirk it turned into wasn't as jocular as it was something that I couldn't quite decipher, something that made my pulse quicken. He didn't voice a reply, though he quirked a brow and leaned the teensiest bit forward.

Tamping down my anxiety, I forced my voice to remain even. "I was hoping you could tell me about your _family_." I raised both eyebrows on the last word hoping he would catch my intentional use of euphemism and reply in kind.

His smile disappeared into complete expressionlessness but he nodded complacently. "This may… take a while. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll?"

Casual privacy, perfect. "That'd be lovely."

"_Mijita_-" All it took was firm eye contact and a terse nod to cut Maya off from her protest though there was a definite vibe of irritation thrumming through her assent. "Stay where I can see you."

That was the best concession I could hope for from her given the circumstances. I inclined my head to her noncommittally before turning to my new companion and accepting the elbow he politely proffered. Arm-in-arm, he led me away from my friend and off into the burgeoning night.

* * *

**Endnote**: "I have slept beside the winter and the green is growing slow. I have watched you find the places hidden by the snow. I have tripped into a valley that is blue till you can see..."

**miztrez**, not that he'd let you forget about him either. All I hear when I write the Ness chapters is him swearing a blue streak in the background. And this one was by far the worst yet ;)

**Lil**, ¡Qué pasa! ¡Recepción detrás, amiga! :D –abrazos-

**Elise**, thank you, I hope that remains true enough for you to make it to this point ;)

**Ero**, I'm so glad :)

**Medicat**, I lol'd when I wrote that line. ...woo... :D

**OAT**, it's still always nice to hear, lol. :)

**WaK**, don't worry, I don't. Special needs maybe ;) It's funny you picked out that particular quote. I put in cuz I really felt guilty doing that to him, I know how hard it is to go through this kind of thing and it just broke my heart to write that last bit. :`(

**Jenna**, this was relatively soon, right? ;)

**lillie**, I'm glad you're enjoying it. There is a lot of plot happening offstage that will be revealed as the story calls for it. But if you have specific questions, feel free to ask. I might not answer but I do randomly give away hints in some of my responses. ;)

**Kyzyl**, yeah, I'm pretty evil :D -laughs villainously like Dr. Horrible-

**my hubby**, Jacob definitely shares your sentiments about Ness. Though I hope that you at least enjoyed this chap because he certainly didn't :)

**crackfic**, yeah, it takes almost 30 hours to fly to San Carlos from Washington, and even longer with layovers. So even if Jake had managed to board a plane Saturday before noon, he still wouldn't have been able to start looking for her until close to sundown on Sunday anyway. So, either way, he couldn't have prevented her from seeing Nahuel ;)

Aliat, well hopefully you'll find this then. :) Glad to have you along for the ride.

**Curious**, thanx :D

**k8ex10**, ...um..... lol. :)

* * *

_De nada_ – It was nothing

_era fácil – _it was easy

_Hemos llegado – _We have arrived

_Dios mio – _My god

_Él es un diablo – _He is a demon

_Pensé que era un dinosaurio – _I thought he was a dinosaur

_Esto es serio – _This is serious

_¡Tienes que escucharme!__- _you need to listen to me

_¡Tu amigo es malvado!__- _Your friend is evil!

_No puedo protegerte y luchar contra él a la misma vez__ - _I can't protect you and fight him at the same time.

_Señorita, usted sabe que puedo hablar español, ¿verad?__ – _Miss, you know I can speak Spanish, right?


	26. My Eyes

**A/N**: You know you're a south Floridian when 60 degrees is enough to make your teeth chatter. Like living down here turns you into a reptile or something, all cold-blooded and unable to generate your own body heat. Just call me Ickyzilla. rawr. Actually, it's just that takes me like a week or two to adjust to a big temperature change. But the past few winters down here have been all screwy. It's only cold for like two, three days at a time. I just don't have time to acclimate anymore. Stupid global warming.

Moving on, Jacob was all kinds of thrilled that everyone is on his side as far Nahuel goes. Now if y'all could only convince Ness, lol ;)

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Saturday Night

Well. That certainly sucks pretty bad. Way to soften the blow, Doctor Blood.

I want to hit something so bad that I don't care whose fault it is. It just doesn't matter anymore. If I don't do something quick Doc's going to be the one footing the bill. "So now you want to be honest with me?" I have to keep myself from growling as I stare him down. "You made me give you my word. Twice. And yet you're still keeping secrets. Like what she's looking for and who left last night. You like to pick and choose the truth as it suits you, dontcha Doc."

He grimaced, whipping something out of his coat pocket faster than I could follow, clicking it, and throwing it down hard on the ugly green linoleum floor between us.

Right as I realized that it was just his fountain pen, I felt the needle in his other hand bite into the big, round vein in my bicep that bulges whenever I do curls. Shit. I feel like such a rookie. I can't believe I fell for something that simple. "Cheap trick, Doc," I eyed him angrily as I sat hard back down on the examining table.

Already I could feel the disgustingly familiar drug speeding it's way through me. Though he must have used a bigger dose this time. It shouldn't be this fast-acting considering he didn't even inject it straight into my neck, for once. "Well," I managed to slur at him, "I'm gonna give you my word again, Doc. For free this time. If you effing even _think_ about trying to lock me up again I swear I'll kill every. Last. One of you." As I spoke I forced my head up from its hangdog slump so I could look him right in the eye, so he could see that I meant every word from the very bottom of my heart. "And I'll enjoy every single second of it."

Oh he got it alright, loud and clear. His whole face twisted up. But his voice was calm and steady. "I can't very well sit idly by as you go on a rampage in a hospital full of innocent people just because you're having a temper tantrum."

"Huh?" Whatever Dr. Ugdealer just shot me up with must be way stronger than the other stuff.

"You didn't think I'd let you shift right here, did you? There are civilians everywhere." He fixed his glasses all huffy like one of those school-teacher nuns on TV.

Oh. My face must have gotten away from me again. "So what now, Sister? Going to lock me up in the basement while you go make yourself a cocktail of freshly squeezed Jake Juice?" My hands are clenching at the rim of the table but I can already feel them weakening as the drugs cut me off from my anger, my strength.

Sighing, he stooped to pick his pen back up but without looking away from me once. "No, Jacob. I'm going to get back to work trying to save your father. And you are going to take a little nap."

He straightened, keeping his eyes on me the whole time. Smart of him to still be scared, I guess all his fancy-schooling was good for something after all. "I sympathize with you, Jake, really I do. But I have a responsibility to the greater good. So we'll have to postpone our conversation until you can conduct yourself in a more rational manner."

Laid out by the drugs, I was already flat on my back by the time he finished speaking and turned his back on me to walk out the door.

I awoke a long while after Doc had taken off with his snack. Completely untied, thankfully, no rope in sight.

I'm sure my body had already replaced all the blood by the time I sat up on that tiny little bed but I was hungry as all get out. Luckily, Doc must've had a nurse bring me food cuz I found a cafeteria tray piled high with prepackaged food sitting on the chair next to me.

I didn't want to face any of what was waiting for me upstairs, in Dad's room, on an empty stomach anyways. It was really decent of Doc to be so nice even after I keep flipping out on him and threatened his family. I guess he understood what a bad way I was in, what a shitty week I was having.

The idea of losing Dad was hitting me harder than I would've expected it to. Sure, I came in nervous but I hadn't really thought about it on the ride over. My only concern at the time had just been getting here. Now that I knew for sure things were bad it was a whole new ballgame. Except now it was bottom of the ninth with one out.

And I was batting with a handicap, apparently. Aside from the drama with Bells and the pack when I first turned, I had never considered being a wolf to really be much of a drawback. More the opposite. But now I was sitting here drinking a little kindergartener-sized plastic cup of apple juice wondering how long it would take for me to turn human again if I stopped shifting today. If it'd even be in time to do anything.

And assuming that I could even control it anymore in my current state of mind. Up until the past few days I hadn't shifted accidentally for almost four years.

There had been an 'incident' where Ness threw me a surprise birthday party the summer that the Alaska vamps were visiting them. Where I kinda accidentally thought that it was some kind of ambush when all the moose-suckers screamed and jumped out of the bushes. Totally an honest mistake. Besides, it all ended pretty well. Read: no one died. Plus the cake was pretty good too. Though, to be fair, I think _everything_ Ness makes is good.

Recent events had shot my streak all to hell though. Unless it doesn't really count since it hasn't been full shifts, only my face. Though I wouldn't mind being able to control it on that level, to be able to only shift the parts that I wanted to when I wanted to. I could see myself having way too much fun with a party-trick like that, using it to eff with Leah or Paul. Or Ness. My brain is desperate to the point of pain to follow that thought through, I have to forcefully shake it off. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. Maybe I've finally lost it.

It's a good thing Edward's in another country. The mere thought Ol' Eddie's face was more than enough to shatter all thoughts of her to hell, like my appetite when Embry told me his version of the Aristocrats.

Still, the fact that I got away with it was satisfying in its own way.

Too bad I felt so guilty about it on my own that I could barely savor that small victory. Plus, she probably won't be talking to me even when I do see her. 'When', not 'if.' I couldn't live with 'if.' It's already bad enough as it is.

Bleeping bleep of a bleep bleep! I can't _believe_ Ness thinks I would …. do _that_ with _Leah_.

Then again, how could she think that I don't want her? I've been on her like white on rice since the day she was born. How couldn't she know that she means everything, that I'd cut off parts of my body to make her happy? Like that crazy painter she likes. Shit, I'd give her both ears if I thought I could live without hearing the sound of her voice. Hell, I love her so much I don't even think I could kill her if she turned into a zombie. Just the thought of it makes me miss a breath and I choke on the last of my pathetically small juice cup.

And aside from Ness being the only girl for me, my imprint, even if she weren't I'd sooner give up sex than sleep with Leah. Not that I'm getting any now but still.

Hmm, that sounds messed up even for me. It's the truth though. Leah's been more like a sister than Rebecca has for the past few years. Actually, if anything, Leah's more like a brother. Which is why it'd be just plain wrong, on every level.

It's a good thing we're basically immortal cuz it's going to take _a heck of a lot_ of favors for Leah to make this shit up to me. Probably several lifetimes' worth. She owes me very much big time.

If only I could blame her for dad too.

My life is so messed up right now that it's all that I can do not to put holes in the walls to make myself feel better. Or it could be the lingering drugs in my system preventing that. I suppose I should be grateful to Doc for saving me from myself. But I'm just so effing pissed at everything right now, the whole world.

Pissed because I can't do a thing. I should be able to hit something and save the day. Bam. Problem's all solved. Zombies I could've saved her from, saved Billy from. Life would be so much easier if it had been zombies. It would have been so much more fun too.

I've never been this miserable before in my entire life. Not once, not even close. I keep picturing myself grabbing different objects from around the room and hurling them into the wall. Just to let the anger out. But I can't even go workout, or spar with Quil. Gotta stay here and play-wait-and-see while I run all the bad 'what if's in my head, all dopey again and just as pissed. Though I can move my arms now. So that's a plus.

"Jake?" Damn. I didn't even hear Rach come in. "Jake, are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah. Just hungry." I dropped the crushed juice container on the tray and grabbed the fruit cup. I wasn't sure that I was hungry enough to try the plate of brown gloppy stuff with what looked like peas. Not yet anyway.

"Are you sure?" Her look is all Mom'd out. "You were bleeding just now. Did you even notice?" She motioned to the juice cup and sure enough there was blood on it.

"I might be a little stressed out," I admitted trying not to drop my head. I don't know if it was the drugs or her but I just felt so tired all of a sudden. I wonder how long I was out.

The bed moved as she sat on the edge and took my hand, turned it palm up and ran a finger over it like a fortuneteller. Then she grabbed it with both of her small hands and still couldn't hold it all. She hefted a long-suffering sigh and inside I panicked that I was about to really get it from her now.

But instead she looked me in the eyes and brushed some hair off my face. "Oh, Jake," she sighed again, "I'm almost as worried about you as I am Dad. Talk to me. Please."

And she meant it. I wonder if Doc said anything to her. Someone had to tell her I was here. "I'm just having a bad day. A really bad day. A few of 'em, today's number eight."

Before I was finished speaking she was hugging me, eyes shiny. "I know how much you're worried about Renesemee and yet you stayed just on the off chance that you can save Dad." She sniffled as she said it. I hate it when girls cry. I put an arm around her and pat-rubbed her back like Doctor Horrible did when he was trying to be consoling.

Only it made her really latch on and start sobbing. Awesome. "I'm so sorry I haven't been there for you, Jake." What? "I know it can't have been easy, me and Rebecca taking off on you with Dad in the wheelchair, all by yourselves." She hiccuped on the last few words and my chest was starting to feel damp.

"Really, Rach, it's no biggie. Don't feel bad for going to college. I never even thought about it."

"No." She pulled back enough to look up at me, eyes still running over with tears. "It's not. I've talked about it with Paul and if…" Her eyes welled up and my heart just about stopped waiting for the shoe to drop. If I wasn't afraid to move I would've grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her out of it. The staring and crying was seriously creeping me out. Just when I was really starting to consider it, she finished. "If Dad does-doesn't make it, we want you to come live with us."

"What? That's crazy talk, we'd kill each other. We almost did this morning."

She whacked me on the arm, smiling. "Be serious."

"You be serious. There's no way Paul agreed to this ."

It must have offended her cuz she got all huffy. "Of course he did, you can come ask him yourself."

"He's here?"

"With Dad, he's been here with me since we brought him in, not too long after you left."

"I guess the table hasn't come up then?" I hoped.

She squeezed my hand. "I'm more worried about you than the table. Besides," she grinned again, "there'll be plenty of time for that later."

"There's no way that I'm moving in with you. No offense. But thanks for caring enough to argue Paul into it."

Her smile disappeared and she sighed deeply. "Why do you always think that the world's against you?"

"Because it is."

Her smile reappeared, brighter than ever, eyes big. " Family helps each other out, Jakey. Now get up, half the tribe is here to see Dad and all your friends have been asking about you." Grinning widely, she pulled on my hand as she stood, "You don't have to go through this alone, little brother."

* * *

**Endnote**: " 'Little'? Are you kidding me?"

**Lil**, muchas muchas gracias por su ayuda. :)

**Medicat**, I loved your couplet, very clever. ;)

**OAT**, creepy? He's just really quiet and has a staring problem... oh wait. ;)

**Jenna**, yeah, it was. Made me smile :D

**Jess**, for real, we have to read like a book a week and it's not even a literature class, it's a theory course. Good thing I have this to escape to ;)

**Gabby**, thanks! :)

**Summer**, let's just say she can sense something about him ;)

**my hubby**, I wouldn't say obvious exactly ;)

**Curious**, how's this? :)

**Jutey**, love the enthusiasm :D

**WaK**, Maya's thrilled to have your support :)

**lovely**, thank you for all the lovely reviews. It was so nice of you to take time to share your reactions, I really appreciate it :D

**k8ex10**, I'm glad you think so :) I was afraid I was being to subtle for a second there.


	27. On the Rise

**A/N**: Is it just me or is there something poetic about the inauguration being the day after Martin Luther King Jr. Day? My friend is throwing a massive party, it's going to be legendary. I don't think I've been this excited about something since the days when I still believed in Santa Claus. –does happy dance-

_Y muchas gracias_ to **Lil** for her pro bono consultation, it was most gracious and greatly appreciated. :D

* * *

_Renesmee_

* * *

Sunday Night

The peak Nahuel made his home on was at a higher elevation than any of the other mountains we had crossed, one of the tallest in the range. Maya and I had only traveled a few hours on foot to reach it but, from this vantage point, the village was a distant cluster of twinkling lights below us. With the sun finally set, the brisk wind had turned almost bitingly cold. The chilly breezes whipping around us contrasted sharply with the furnace-like warmth radiating off of Nahuel. I could feel it both through his shirt and in the air immediately around him, like Venus and its super-heated atmosphere. Only, hopefully, not as sulfuric, for I found myself being drawn in by it as if he also held the magnitude of gravitational pull possessed by a heavenly body.

A smirk flashed briefly over his face as he escorted me to the western boundary of the property. Predictably he appeared as unfazed by the temperature as Maya had. He wasn't any more bundled up than I - perfectly creased slacks with matching, expertly-tailored vest and an ivory dress shirt. Nothing this man wore was off-the-rack; no wonder Auntie had found him so easily.

I on the other hand, would have shamed her. Wearing the only clean pair of pants I had happened to have left, some well-worn blue jeans I had brought from home and seemed to be growing out of, paired with the slightly oversized Che Guevara t-shirt Maya had lent me. At least I still smelled pleasantly of lavender.

And it was still beautiful, the dark green and blue hues of the shadows slowly swallowing the sparsely wooded area we strolled through on the far edge of his yard. To the west, the Pacific sparkled, to the south, mountains as far as I could see, dotted spartanly with variegated sprinklings of man-made light. And overhead, as the darkness kept creeping in, more and more stars blinked to life high above it all, like jewels in a celestial crown.

Everything seemed so infinite here, like standing on the edge of the universe. So colorful and foreign that, even though I had come here with an abundance of technical knowledge, I was still woefully unprepared for the sheer scope of it all. I knew that as impressive the southern view was, it was still only a paltry fraction of an enormous whole, that on the north side the Andes continued almost to the Caribbean coast of Venezuela _over four thousand miles away_. But _knowing_ that number couldn't even begin to compare with the magnitude of actually _seeing_ the five hundred kilometers of sierra that lay before me under the mounting plethora of stars.

"_Salud_," I responded automatically, thoughtlessly, when Nahuel sneezed. But it suddenly made me hyper-aware of how I hadn't said anything else to him yet. How rude am I? Turning up here unannounced, bringing a friend that half-assaults him, asking him to talk and then spacing out because I'm so repressed and unworldly that just being outside turns me into an absent-minded idiot.

No wonder Jake wasn't interested in me.

The thought of him is so unexpectedly and excruciatingly painful that even though I know I should be asking Nahuel what I came all this way to ask, all my attention is completely diverted to suppressing my sorrow back into the corner of my mind. Back to where it can't hurt me.

The smooth tones of Nahuel's tenor drew me back into the moment. "Have you two known each other long?"

At my look of slightly startled confusion he motioned his head to where Maya stood far enough away that if I squinted my eyes I could block her out completely with my thumb, yet close enough for my enhanced vision to make out every line of annoyance creasing her face. Scowling fiercely, arms crossed, she stood stock-still, her mouth working like trailer trash on a daytime talk show telling off her baby daddy's other baby momma. Polyglot that she was, I didn't doubt that she was likely cursing in several languages.

"A week."

Interested, he turned towards me, causing my elbow to act like a lever and curl my arm around his, drawing my body closer to his heat. His eyes narrowed a little and swung back to where Maya stood unmoving, watching. "She's very protective of you for a stranger."

"I just have that effect on people," I muttered much louder than I meant to, feelings of deeply buried guilt and inadequacy resurfacing.

There was enough of a disparity between our heights that he had to look down slightly to meet my eyes. "Do you?" He almost-smiled softly, placing his long, elegant fingers over mine where they lay pinned between the heat of his elbow and the cashmere softness of his vest, creating an amazingly pleasant pocket of warmth that reminded me sharply, achingly, of Jake before Nahuel continued. "And your family? They are well?"

"They were last I checked."

His grip took on a barely perceptible hint of pressure and he held my gaze again. "Everything is alright then? Nothing has happened?"

"No, no," I placated, "Everything's fine. It's just…" I trailed off trying to collect my thoughts enough to adequately phrase all the ethereal things I wanted to know into a real, tangible question. For a moment I felt ridiculously like one of Adams' pan-galactic beings trying to ask Deep Thought 'The Ultimate Question.' Did I really come all the way here expecting him to be able to magically give meaning to my life? "I was hoping that if I knew more about your sisters that I would know more about myself." I met his eyes, trying to include him, "About _our kind_."

"Our kind?" He repeated as his mouth tilted into a hint of a smile.

"Well, yes," I clarified, oddly flustered by his expression, "Hybrids, like us."

"What about _us_?" The way he said it, softly, slowly, running his fingers thoughtfully over mine, it almost felt like we were each carrying on our own separate conversations.

"Anything unique about us, any particular traits, anything of note."

"Other than what my aunt and I have already told you?"

"Yes. Ah," I groped mentally, "For instance, are we reproductively viable?"

His lips smoothed out into a full grin. "You and I?"

"_Our kind_." I tried not to stammer in my nervousness. His behavior and proximity were evoking strangely conflicting reactions in me. As big a part of me wanted to flee as wanted answers and I was deliberating my options even as I rambled. "For instance mules, a crossbreeding of a donkey with a horse, are unable to procreate amongst themselves. Only a donkey and a horse can make one, they are a non-self-sustaining species."

There was a white flash of teeth against the auburn backdrop of his flawless skin as his smile widened even further, by far the most expressive I had ever seen his face though his eyes remained dark and unreadable. "I am the _only_ male of 'our kind,' Renesemee. Which brings us back to You and I."

The implication hit me and I was flustered momentarily by my own stupidity. I should have known better than to ask such a thing, there was only one way to ascertain _that_ answer, I may as well have propositioned him. "Anything else then?" I pressed on, embarrassed but undeterred. "Unique physiology? Special powers? Your father is conducting experiments, you said?"

Instantaneously his face collapsed back into blankness though the intensity still shone in his eyes. "Joham is a monster that sacrifices women as a means to an end." He spoke firmly through clenching teeth, the only flaw in his otherwise armored composure. "I haven't seen him in close to a decade, not since before I met your family."

"Oh." All this way for nothing.

He sighed heavily and frowned uncertainly. "Last I heard they were in _La Paz_." His mouth twisted somewhat wryly on the name.

"That's right on the edge of the Amazon, isn't it?" Something about that struck me in an almost discernible way. It danced at the edge of my understanding, seductively, teasing. Like in the back of my mind, on the tip of my tongue, was the answer to it all. I grasped for it desperately but it evaded me as tauntingly as Tantalus' grapes.

My hand was starting to feel distractingly warm. Nahuel's blood pressure had picked up, I could feel the hot streams of life flowing, speeding through him, underneath the clothes between us, burning through the layers of fabric like they were no thicker than rice paper.

The thirst exploded within me full bloom. It had been days since I had tasted human blood and almost a fortnight since I had drunk anything approaching a substantial amount of it. But now I could smell it rushing through him, was bathed in the rising heat of it. Entranced by the pounding of his heart thumping the sweet staccato of a climaxing tempo, in my mind's eye an image grew along with it; I could see my teeth cutting open the pulse point on his wrist, letting his throbbing organ pump that sweet red nectar into my hungry, waiting mouth.

His elbow still held my hand to his side, again limiting my ability to step back and escape. But I had to step back, I had let my imagination ensnare me and, unless I found my way to extricate myself soon, I wasn't going to able to restrain myself much longer.

Beside me he swallowed thickly and I was jolted back into reality. I was practically panting, like a mad dog on a Midsummer's day, and he was staring at me with disconcertingly rapt attention and a smirk playing at the corner of his dignified expression.

My eyes dropped our hands, where his lay tucked over mine like a blanket. _Oh no_. Beyond mortified I began trying to reclaim the traitorous appendage, face aflame, shame overriding the desire that had inspired it in the first place.

But then, ever so gently, there was a whisper of a touch dancing over the heated part of my cheek- just at the point of penumbra, where baby soft becomes air. Slowly, ever so slowly, I lifted my eyes back up to meet his look of wonderment as his impeccably manicured fingertips continued to ghost over the slight swell of facial flesh. My blood rose to meet his almost-caress like it was siren-called by the heat that was jumping the synapse between my skin and where his digits deftly floated just nanometers shy of actual contact. The depths of his eyes shone with curiosity and it wasn't until he inhaled sharply and almost inaudibly that I realized I was leaning in to his would-be touch.

The smirk broke fully through his courtly restraint as his hand closed the last infinite inch between our skin and my embarrassment increased exponentially.

Blood flooded into my cheeks as he traced them with a quiet awe and he chuckled deeply in response, the sound rumbling pleasantly against my side where it pressed against him and our entwined arms. My face felt as if it had conflagrated, I could only imagine how many shades of red were burning through my pale skin. It was moments like these that I wished my complexion contained a higher level of melanin. His eyes were bright as flames and yet endlessly dark with intensity all at once.

Trapped more by his eyes than the arm curled around my hand, I was riveted to the spot, a deer in the headlights. Tingles rippled outward through my skin where he was touching me, sending conflicting signals of heat and chills that left me oversensitive and reeling. If he weren't holding me so securely I just might have slipped right through his fingers to the waiting ground.

"_¡No la toque!_"

His hold tightened fractionally as I looked up to face an irate Maya. Her nostrils were flared and her eyes feral, standing just a few feet from us. She must have snuck up during our moment of distraction.

Her sudden appearance provided me the impetus I needed to clear my head and I firmly reclaimed my hand. "Thank you so much for your time." I told him softly when he turned to look at me questioningly. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

Rather boldly, he took my hand again and brushed his surprisingly supple mouth across the backs of my knuckles, watching Maya from the corner of his eye. "Never a bother. Feel free to call on me _any time_ you wish to _talk_."

He met my eyes on the last word as he rose, holding my hand and my gaze for a long moment before Maya cleared her throat loudly. Her glare never wavered, logging every gesture, her pupils dilating and contracting like camera shutters. But she held her place, arms clenching each other across her chest, back ramrod straight, tone strained. "_Vámonos_, _mija_, _es tarde_."

Scaling back the incredulity that was my initial reaction, I pointed at the freshly risen moon and struck the most reasonable tone I could. "It can't be more than seven, eight o'clock at most."

"_Sí, pero_ it took three hours to walk here. Remember?"

Still watching me, Nahuel answered her before I could, contemplation coloring his tone. "Ladies should not be unescorted this time of day and I have business in town besides. I would be happy to give you a ride."

"That's very kind of you." I answered hastily, silencing Maya's protest before she could voice it. Her gaze spit retaliatory fire all the same, though not at me, she had eyes only for him.

A smile flashed briefly over his patrician features before he tucked it away again. Which was a shame, I found I rather liked his smirk; he didn't seem quite as human without it. "Shall we then?" Ever the perfect gentleman, he offered me his elbow again, which I couldn't think of a way to politely decline.

While he hadn't given any outward sign of having heard my internal workings earlier, surely he must have. Unless the new phenomenon is limited to only connecting with Maya - which is highly unlikely, why would my powers favor a human over one of my own kind?

Yet, even now, I could feel the barely suppressed emotion pouring off of her even from several feet away, could almost hear her debating with herself about what to do. Could I really read her kinesics this well after only a few days? Did I really know her that well already?

I shoved it out of my mind and took his arm. There was no way of avoiding a conversation with her about all of this once we got back to the cabin, might as well take advantage of the upper hand while I had it and keep her on her best behavior until we were alone.

She waited for Nahuel to lead me past her and then looped her arm possessively through my free one, sticking her tongue out at him when she thought I wasn't looking. The twitch along his proud jaw line was the only acknowledgment he gave her juvenile tactics yet she clung to me all the tighter for it. I had a sinking feeling that it was going to be a very long drive back into town.

* * *

**Teaser**: _"With as god-awful as my week had been, I should have expected Sam to be standing there when I walked in. Though, even if I had, I doubt it would've made me want to bitchslap him any less."_

**All reviewers will also be PM'd a bonus teaser line from the next Nessie chapter, so be sure to sign in ;)**

**Medicat**, I'm glad you like it :)

**miztrez**, it's funny that it worked, lol :D

**Ero**, most of the Doctor names are references to horror movies and comedies that I think Jacob would watch - _Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog_ (a musical about a wannabe evil scientist), _Dr. Blood's Coffin_ (a B-movie about a creepily evil scientist), and Doctor Satan from _House of 1,000 Corpses_ (a really dark comedy, or a really funny slasher flick, about a family of serial killers.) I fully claim Moose-suckers though, it started off in my head as a Sarah Palin joke that would've decimated my T-rating ;)

**OAT**, because everything's better with zombies :)

**Lil**, thanks, and thank you :D

**Jenna**, finding ways to keep his potty-mouth in line is quite the creative endeavor ;) 17?! Isn't that like 14 below freezing? ¡Hay que frio!

**Summer**, no I don't. You volunteering? ;)

Courtney, thank you :D I'm not sure Ness'll be figuring out his feelings without talking to him; she left Forks thinking Jake had imprinted on some other girl AND was cheating on said imprint with Leah.

**Jess**, yep, hopefully :) I'm currently working on my last 15 creds of requirements. I've got Senior Project this semester too, complete with 20+ page Lit Review. Major ick.

**crackfic, **and I thought Miami was hot, 106? Crazy XD BTW, what's a popper?

**WaK, **40 below?! Zowee, are you winters always like that? I couldn't even imagine living in that let alone being out and about. How supergirl of you, impressive ;)

**my hubby, **I think a punch to the face would be getting off lightly. Jake'd probably dismember him just to be sure the threat was completely neutralized ;)

**Elise, **thanks, glad you like it :)

**Curious, **that sounds kinda messy, lol ;)

**Jutey, **I think he's come pretty far maturity wise. It's just too bad that he started at the bottom of the heap :)

**Kyzyl, **wow, you're my 300th review XD

* * *

_Salud _- Health

_La Paz _- The Peace

_¡No la toque! - _Don't touch her!

_Vámonos - _let's leave

_es tarde - _it's late

_Sí, pero - _Yes, but_  
_


	28. Ain't No Sunshine

**A/N**: Normally I use the long break I have between classes on Wednesday to sit in the Starbucks in the school library and flesh out the next chapter. But this week I ended up skipping to spend the afternoon with my boyfriend getting his new tattoo. It was a blast. I forgot how much fun those places can be. The guys there were all really nice and funny and all they do all day is hang out and watch movies and draw. When I dropped art as my major after the Orlando animation internship fell through I wish I had known how much money could be made working in a tat parlor. Totally would have gotten certified when I left art school instead of bothering with FIU's crazy bureaucracy.

The bad part though, was we had a pop quiz that day. I told teach my car had broken down, which it did, just not that day, and she gave me a four page extra credit paper to make up the grade. I'm still not sure whether I came out ahead but I think it was worth it, the tat art is really tight and I met a lot of interesting people. Besides, given that I was a little hungover, I doubt I would've passed it even had I been there so I guess it's a wash.

Sorry that it took so long getting this out ): On the bright side, chapter 29 is also almost done, so that should be along shortly. I have a feeling that's the one everyone's waiting for anyway ;)

* * *

_Jacob_

* * *

Saturday Night

To reach the Surgical Intensive Care Unit, where Dad's room was, we had to pass through the Emergency Room waiting area. Which probably wouldn't have taken half as long to cross as it did if most of the population of LaPush wasn't standing in it making small talk because Billy's room only allowed a maximum of four visitors at a time. Almost as soon as we stepped into the room, Rach got picked off by some old ladies asking questions with big medical words like the Doc uses.

I wasn't about to stop for the old bags, Rach called out the room number to me as she disappeared from sight behind them all. She hadn't been kidding, at least half the tribe was there and everyone had brought him something. Baskets and boxes of candy were piled on every available surface, card envelopes of every color were stacked between the empty cans and water bottles that littered all the little tables and one chair, the rest of the seats were taken. The nurses were making loud beeping noises just to get the crowd to part enough to let them through. It was crazy, it reminded me of the chaos on Graduation Day, only this time Nessie wasn't waiting for me to come home to show her pictures and tell her all about it.

I think part of the reason this all feels so surreal is that she's not here to share it with. Or because without her here, it's almost impossible to care about anything else. A small very guilty part of me actually hopes I'm not a match because if I weren't I could just leave as soon as Dr. Evil said it was a no go.

And I don't give a shit and a half if it makes me a bad person, all these people asking me if I'm okay over and over, I can't walk two steps without someone coming up to me. Doesn't anybody have something better to do on a Saturday night than be all up in my way? Really not helping the whole wanting to hit things and break 'em mood that I'm in. Pretty much the exact opposite in fact.

Which is why Quil was on the receiving end of a pretty bad uppercut to the gut when he grabbed my shoulder. He tried to play it off, since no one saw it, but he stayed hunched over with one hand on his stomach and one on his knee, trying to get his breath back.

"Is he gonna hurl?" Brady laughed as he and Jared appeared out of the crowd. As they got closer I could see Kim was trailing behind Jared, practically plastered to his back, and looking more than a little scared. Guess someone did see after all.

"He'll live." I answered since Quil was still busy panting. Brady stepped forward, grabbing my hand and shook it once hard, launching into his handshake ritual; slap, slap, slap, tap, tap, slap, backhand slap, dap, dap, dap. The last dap is the real test, if you don't block quick, you get punched in the chest. Only Brady didn't even try that part this time. Ha, chickenshit.

I pop him one for good measure, lightly, didn't want to draw any more attention and attract anyone else over here. Just a little cuff because it's the whole point of the greeting, to catch the other guy slipping and nail him one. "Sup, guys," I nodded to Jared and his girl.

Jared nodded back but Kim was acting way shyer than she normally is at these big group things, practically burrowing into his side as she mumbled a tiny hello, visibly death-gripping his hand.

Casually as I could, I rubbed my chin to check if it was the right shape, I really couldn't tell anymore. It felt a little fuzzy but I hadn't shaved in a couple days either so who knows? Not really that big a deal right now anyway. I'm just about at the point where I say eff it, not even going to try and hide shit anymore. Having to be constantly concentrating on not shifting was just the cherry-shaped turd on top of the giant shit sundae that was my life right now.

If it weren't for the fact that I really can't afford to antagonize Doc into putting me in timeout again.

My first reaction when Quil's hand landed on my shoulder was to elbow him in the exact same spot I had just hit him. Lucky for him, he was quicker on the uptake and turned in time to side-step it. "Woah, easy, Jake. It's just me."

"Stress much, bro?" Brady jumped in. "We still on for brewskis on the beach? You look like you could use a few."

"Who else is here?"

"Everyone." Jared said as he pointed with his free hand to the vending machine area around the corner from the far wall. A few dark heads stuck out above the rest but they were facing away and there were too many other people in the room to pick out individual voices above the crowd from a distance. Trying to made it feel like the entire Rez was yelling in my ears.

"There's some things I gotta check first." I said vaguely as I started moving again. I needed to check in with Billy and find Doc, see if I can get any information out of him. Time to get this show on the road already.

"Jake, wait" Quil started following me as I walked by him careful not to touch me again.

"I've gotta see Billy and talk to Doc. You go round everybody up and I'll meet back up with you here. Just in case, I want to talk to whoever I can tonight." I didn't even stop, giving him his instructions over my shoulder as I pushed my way through all the people trying to get me to stop and talk and out the other end of the room.

* * *

With as god-awful as my week had been, I should have expected Sam to be in there, kissing Billy's ass. Even if I had, I doubt it would've made me want to bitchslap him any less. There's a spot, right above the chin, that is at just the right angle to make the head snap against the jaw hinge. Punching someone there causes the brain to bounce off the inside of the skull. Boom. Instant knock out. It's called 'the sweet spot.'

I wonder how hard you would have to hit it open-handed to trigger the same effect. I wonder how many times I'd end up smacking him in the face before I got it right and he dropped. Suddenly I didn't mind as much that he was here. Might as well get our talk out of the way now. Don't even have to step outside, there was a nice, roomy emergency stairwell right around the corner. We'd even have the privacy to do this the _fun_ way.

I didn't bother trying to contain my smirk as I locked eyes with him and gave a short nod. Doc and Billy are _my_ family. Which means this room is also mine, buddy, so you better recognize.

He got it right away. But instead he shook his head and excused himself, even patting my shoulder on the way out. He was really putting on quite a show for the old man. It made me hate the bastard all the more and I had to stop myself from shrugging it off when he touched me. He's lucky he didn't try to pat my head. If he'd touched my face I would have choked him out right there – put him to sleep and let him drop face-first into the fugly floor.

The time I snuck up on Quil and put him to sleep, I had made sure to let him down easy, laid him out on the ground as he fell so he wouldn't get any serious damage. I wouldn't bother doing that for Sam. Let him smack his head, just makes it even better in my opinion. Like dessert after a good meal.

Billy sounds happy but tired as all hell. "You came."

I shrugged uncomfortably, crossing my arms behind my back, trying not to look at all the stuff plugged into him like he's Doctor Horrible's latest experiment. "Dr. Cullen's running the tests right now. I just stopped by to say hi on my way to go see if he had the results yet."

"He's a good doctor." Billy nodded more to himself than me, "It's a shame about his granddaughter."

That perked my ears right up. I regretted not having hit Sam just now when he was leaving. He was right there, and I had wanted to. I should've.

"Don't worry." He sighed, "I know you and Charlie are upset but Cullen says he's sure that she'll be just fine."

I know he was trying to help but when he said that I felt like he'd shanked me, like dirty prison-style, bap, bap, bap! Three times to the gut then kept walking like it was all good. She was gone, probably because she wanted to get away from me, because of something I didn't even do, and here I was, unable to do anything about it. I hate feeling weak. I hate feeling guilty about letting her down. I hate everything. Everything.

"Jake? You alright, son?" He hesitated, "You know, I'm right here if you need to talk. Nothing go anywhere any time soon." And then he smiled. There he was, wired up like a stereo with surround sound and sub woofers, worrying about how I'm feeling when, not too long ago, I was wishing to not be a match so I could leave town tonight.

It was like getting punched in the gut right after having been stabbed there repeatedly, the anger rushed out and all I felt was sick. Who was I kidding? Eddie was going to be the one to ride to rescue and save the damsel in distress, just like always, because no matter how hard I try, shit never goes my way. Only this time I wasn't just losing _some_ girl, it was The Girl._ My_ girl. My _Ness_.

"No, Dad, I'm not alright. Pretty far from it, actually."

Billy was about to say something when Doc came strolling in all business, like he hadn't just sneak attacked me with a needle full of knock out drugs not too long ago. "There you are, Jacob, I've been looking for you. We need to talk."

* * *

**Teaser**: _"Releasing my mouth but not my cheeks, she opened her eyes and pressed her forehead against mine, staring deeply into my eyes."_

**Lil, **I'll be interested to see what you think of the next chap ;)

**Medicat, **one good turn deserves another :)

**Kelly, **thanx :)

**Summer, **YW :) The convo in chap 16 should answer your EXB question. As far as the other stuff goes, I'd comment but I don't want to give anything away ;)

**WaK, **Ness is a little inexperienced when it comes to guys and socializing in general. All she sees is that he has good manners. And that he's alive and full of blood. :)

**Jess, **Swarley's simply awesome :) He reminds me quite a bit of a high school friend I used to wingwoman for back when I was single. We were bros until one day I brought a girl over to his place to watch movies and he tried to ride the tricycle. Once I caught on what his game was, I took off and left them to ride the bicycle instead but it just got too weird between me and him after that. Shame cuz he was one of the funniest guys I ever knew.

**my hubby, **the second one made me lol XD Sorry it took so long.

**Jutey, **true that :)

**Curious, **lol :D

**Kyzyl, **I'm glad :) She's fun to write.

**Claw, **glad to have you aboard :)

**Jenna, **ironic angst is the best kind ;)

**miztrez, **if anything, she'd have bitten him ;)

**Renata, **it's meant to be read as a whole, I imagine it makes more sense that way. I'm interested to hear your thoughts on it :)

**cracfic, **in hospitals here they have little plastic cup things with foil lids half-full of apple juice. My Australian is unfortunately limited to epi-pens, _aussie, aussie, aussie_, and Crocodile Dundee. Though my sis has a good friend that she visited there not too long ago, came back with nice pictures of the Yarra and some cool animals. I'd like to go myself but that's a crazy long plane ride :)

**OAT, **lol! Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy fighting zombies? That's awesome XD

**Silly, **something smells fishy ;)

**Gabby, **:)

sonia, thanks for all the feedback :) I really hope you find this.

**Jazza**, hells yeah, hometown in the house. :D I'm glad you like those, not a lot of people even bother to read 'em.


	29. The Anthem

**A/N**: FIU's University Park campus actually has 2 on-site Starbucks – one in the library (that used to be a Java City) and one in the campus bookstore (which is a Barnes&Noble, natch). The student center - aside from having _2_ food court areas with stuff like Burger King, Subway, Einstein Bros., _Pollo Tropical_, and a _Café Bustelo_ right next to the _actual _cafeteria – also has a florist, a travel agency, the campus credit union, a dry cleaner, a small movie theater/auditorium, a convenience store, a hair/nail salon and a weird 'wave massage' place that, to this day, I'm still not really sure what they do cuz I've never seen anyone in there.

Plus, there's always little flower cart-style kiosks randomly selling jewelry, bargain cds or tango lessons, depending on the day. Walking through the Graham Center is like walking through Dadeland Mall. Except in GC you can sign up for a socialist newsletter or rush a frat. Quite the capitalist microcosm though, takes a little getting used to. Like just today I realized that the 'Golden Panther Arena' is now the 'U.S. Century Bank Arena.' Stupid state budget cuts - several billion dollars were slashed from school funding last year and shameless corporate prostitution is how my school's making up the slack they need to finish up the new College of Medicine. That and a hefty tuition hike. I'm so glad this is my final term.

* * *

_Renesmee_

* * *

Sunday

Different interpretations of vampire mythology have always been an ambivalent subject for me. Revenant traits can vary widely by culture, historical period, and popular media. Take the garlic allergy for instance - it originates from the medieval period when vampires were recorded as having the stench one would assume a rotting corpse would have. The garlic's equal putrescence was believed to counteract that of the monsters' and thus repel them. It's as insulting as it is inaccurate, the only induction I could venture is that it was authored by shape-shifters or drawn from their comments.

But I digress. The point was Anne Rice. Granted she further perpetrated the sunlight fallacy, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing in terms of public relations, it helped validate anyone seen out in the day without catching fire as being amongst the living. But Ms. Rice was also the first to really portray the undead as seductive and that was what won her my attention for the week or so it took to read all ten novels in the series.

As far as prose goes, I found them entertaining and as far as accuracy goes, I certainly wouldn't begrudge her some literary license. However, I found one construction of hers to be disturbingly accurate. The way she portrayed the stillness - the death-like stupor one can acquire after centuries of motionlessness- in Queen of the Damned strongly invoked my memories of the Romanians, Stefan and Vladimir. Nahuel also had it about him - his unmoving poise, the chiseled immobility, more sculpted than alive. His eyes and the occasional half-smile were the only visible manifestations of his mortality, if it could even be called that.

Aside from practiced civility, he seemed as much unlike me as anyone else, at least on the surface, perhaps over time he, like Maya, would reveal what lay beneath.

The walk to his garage could be described charitably as tense. Very charitably. They way their grips would alternately tighten around mine, the absolute utter silence that met my attempts at conversation. I don't doubt that if a tugging war had broken out they would have rent me in twain, like I was the infant from the King Solomon story.

As taciturn and anxious as Maya was the whole walk to the garage, she still let out a low whistle of appreciation at the sight of his silver Audi Cross Cabriolet Quattro. Polished to a mirror-like finish, the shapes of the overhead lighting slid over it as we approached, giving it the appearance of being coated in flowing, liquid metal, like it was dipped in mercury or carved from a seamless block of hematite.

Still-faced, Nahuel gently disentangled his arm from mine and proceeded to remove the convertible top, as if Maya's reaction was what was to be expected in the course of things and not of any particular note. But when he glanced back and caught me checking out the shiny chrome hubcaps on his giant, car-elevating, off-roading tires, he gave me that smirk of his again. Though I'm not sure that was the proper term for it, it was just the slightest curve of indentation at the very tip of his lips, almost like a dimple, just a hint of shadow on his marble-carved face.

I liked it all the same, a crack in the veneer of his formality. The way it lightened his teak eyes and softened the sharp angles of his cheek bones, made him seem much more approachable, less rigidly untouchable.

Eyes on me and smiling slowly, he gave the slightest tilt of a bow, like a chauffeur would for a rich client, and opened the front passenger side door. And before I could lift my foot high enough to climb in, he slid his arms beneath my thighs and boosted me up. He didn't handle me anywhere inappropriate and it was just the barest of touches, just enough to help me lift myself smoothly, effortlessly. But he was so invitingly warm, his arms strong but gentle, almost reverent, that it was almost intimate when his trailing fingers brushed the curve of my pelvis as I slid into the seat.

He lingered, straightening leisurely, smiling softly, and when his eyes met mine I had the distinct notion that he had felt something as well. And appeared to have liked it. That realization shot straight to my stomach and twisted it voraciously, my pulse sped in something that was akin to fear but wasn't as scary as it was something entirely nameless and wholly discombobulating. Presumably hearing my racing heart, he leaned back in slightly, his heat sliding up my right side like a blanket. "Are you-?"

Maya yanked him out of the way and, using him as a launching point, hopped into the car and firmly onto my lap, giving Nahuel her back as she closed the door behind her. Wrapping her arms around my neck and tucking her legs over mine, she sat facing the driver's seat, acting for all the world like what she just did was perfectly acceptable social conduct for a normal person to abide by.

She sighed loudly and grasped me tightly as Nahuel easily swung himself in front of the steering wheel, fluidly dropping into the seat and starting the car in the breadth of breath. The motor hummed to life and the dashboard lit up with all manner of statistical output.

The energy panel specifically caught my attention. A hybrid car, how ecofriendly. I was impressed with his environmental conscientiousness and was on the verge of saying something to him to that effect several times but at each instance Maya kept shifting her weight distractingly, her fingers fidgeting with the collar of my shirt, my hair.

As a concession to her obviously intentional interference, I spent the rest of the ride practicing the thoughtlessness that we'd established Maya couldn't hear, the inner silence of strictly existing. Nahuel said nothing, vision trained on where the headlights traced Venn diagrams over the dips of the rocky road, and the shadowy trees and foliage lining it, drawing white circles through the inky, encroaching darkness. Maya remained reticent, only speaking to voice the directions back to our hotel without specifically addressing them to Nahuel. More like she was making an announcement than talking to him. I did my best to ignore it and was quite glad to be out of the tension of the car when we finally reached our intended destination.

I was really looking forward to calling it an early night and getting in as much bed time as I could. The fluffy queen-sized mattress was so soft and so not the hard, cold dirt I had been becoming accustomed to. I could hardly wait to indulge myself in it while I could.

Maya got the door open and helped me down before Nahuel could. Which irritated me because I knew that she, unlike him, was fully aware that I could do it by myself, that I wasn't helpless anymore, and yet she made a show of doing it anyway. Something about it rang false, like it was all just for Nahuel's benefit, that she was warning him off in some sort of territorial competition.

His face was blank as he met my eyes. "Renesmee, might I use your phone if it is not too much of an imposition?"

"Sure," I replied before Maya could. She glared at me but when I said that I would reimburse her the expense, she heaved a martyred sigh and led me hand-first into the cabin, our houseguest trailing a respectful distance behind.

"Phone's in there," Maya directed him to the kitchen as she pulled me to sit in the far room, away from him, settling both of us on the loveseat and finally relaxing a bit, though tension still quivered through her as she reached into the pocket of her pack.

She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, inhaled deeply and released so fully that her torso folded in on itself a little at the end of the exhalation. After three more puffs like that, her eyes swung back and lit on me, "We are going to try something, a breathing exercise."

It seemed innocuous enough and I had found myself missing the capoeira session we had foregone that morning to get an early start on crossing the glacier. Interesting that I should have conditioned to it so quickly that I was already feeling it's absence, like a mild withdrawal.

"Take a deep breath. Good." Her tone was encouraging as I complied. "Now hold it." Ribbons of smoke followed her hand through the air, tracing her thoughts between us as she spoke them.

"And release, _lentamente. Bien_. Again, _slowly_. _Sí._ Now hold it in as long as you can." She said 'you' with a thick, almost francophonic accent, pronouncing it somewhere between a '_cha'_ and a '_juh_.'

"_Ahora_, try to copy me and hold it in for as long as I do." Indicating her cigarette she continued, "Try not to let go until after I give you the signal." The smirk she gave me was challenging and I found myself cocking my brow at her in playful competitiveness.

"On three?" I half-grinned back.

"_Uno_," she began, leaning in slightly.

"_Dos_," I continued, releasing air, preparing to inhale to my fullest capacity.

On the breath that should have been '_Tres'_ we both started inhaling instead. Her eyes twinkled as they locked with mine, proud that we had jumped the gun in sync, that I had both anticipated her cheating and replicated it flawlessly.

Breathing in as slowly as I could, I held her gaze and tried my hardest not to laugh. The match appeared to be as much a staring contest as it was a competition of pulmonary endurance. Her face twisted in exaggerated contortions and it took all my willpower not to giggle and lose my breath to an unfortunate slip of the diaphragm.

My ribs flexed as my torso expanded leisurely, lungs swelling in tandem with my tricky vixen of a friend. As the seconds slipped by I could see the pride growing in her expression as I met her inch for inch but after what felt like several minutes, I began to feel my chest tightening, my limit nearing. Just when I was on the verge of forfeiture, she held her hand up vertically, flat palm facing me, as she paused and held her breath.

Clenching my lips together, I mimicked her, holding on as tightly as I could, though I could feel every bit of the differential of atmospheric pressure within me and without, like a diver that was surfacing too quickly. Even though the miracle of modern science is capable of sending rovers to the very depths of the ocean to study the isolated alien biome that is the ocean floor, it is still thus far impossible to collect a single specimen. The pressure is so great on the sea bed that the life down there was forced to evolve an internal pressure of an equal degree. Whenever marine biologists tried bringing a sample back up to study, it literally exploded once they surfaced.

Just when I felt a similar force about to burst forth from me, she dropped her hand and I exhaled in a single, encompassing rush. But even as I took a couple short pants to regain my respiratory rhythm, she held fast, eyes crinkling in victory, flashing me as huge a smile as she could while retaining her breath. Nodding at me, she gave an inquisitive thumb's up, silently asking if I was okay. Letting out one last big breath, I gave her a nod that was both agreement and a concession, impressed with her continuing endurance.

And that's when she took my face in her strong, smooth hands and crushed her mouth to mine, using every muscle at her disposal to keep my head from pulling away. Not that I was trying to resist because it wasn't her tongue she was shoving forcefully down my throat, it was her secondhand smoke.

Gripping my head gently but demandingly, she exhaled compellingly into my mouth. Having inhaled immediately on contact, surprised by her sudden onslaught, I had given her the opening she needed to force her air into me and she did not remit until we were both breathless. Releasing my mouth but not my cheeks, she languidly opened her eyes and pressed her forehead against mine, staring deeply into my eyes.

From my vantage point of cross-eyed observation, her eyes appeared as if they were one, a single cycloptic orb of milk and jade. The normally sharp definition of the ridges in her iris, the defining borders of the sclera, blurring into a softness that blended into the shadows and stars dancing at the edge of my vision.

_Breathe, mijita. Just breathe. _

What did you do?

_Smoke is a sacred cleansing element. It purifies._ Smiling mischievously she added, _And it worked the other night._

Was the kissing necessary? I thought you weren't into that.

_No, I said I was not into _you_ in that way._

Shaking my head, I sighed aloud. Either way–

_Breath is like blood, mija. It is a life force moving through the body. To take it into yourself is to take a piece of who it came from. _A Cheshire grin split her face as she pulled back to look me properly in the eye, one hand still cupping my cheek. _You have taken both from me and it has strengthened our bond. You see, you and I- _

Suddenly her face went slack mid-sentence and she turned her face away from mine, every muscle lax except her forehead, her dark, arching eyebrows rising nearly to her hair line. But her eyes were cast down and distant, unfocused. As soon as I formulated the thought of asking her what was wrong, the sound of the wind blowing against the eaves and the chittering of animals scampering amidst the trees outside receded into the background, fading into an ambient silence as the muted whisperings of Nahuel's telephone conversation in the other room that I had previously been ignoring focused into crystal clarity. "… problem that must be eliminated first. I'll do what I can to get rid of her before your arrival. I won't take Renesmee by force unless it becomes necessary…… Yes. See you soon."

Her eyes swung swiftly back to mine as we heard the click of him setting the receiver back into its cradle. _Still trust_ _tu amigo, mijita?_

Which one? You or him?

Scowling fiercely, eyes blazing with emerald fire, she grabbed my chin and pulled my face almost to her lips, her fingers puckering my mouth open like a fish. _You are warm. You do not reek of their poison as he does. Nor do y__ou taste of it. Yet__ you feed on blood. And you ignore my warnings __**because you already know what he is. **_The thin, razor edges of her fingernails pressed into my skin, close to slicing in but not quite._ Why should_ _**I**_ _trust__** you?**_

A spark of indignant fury rose up within me and my inner voice sharpened and resonated enough that it reverberated deep within my tympanic membrane like a car jamming a heavy bass song in the next lane over at a stoplight that you feel more than hear. _I did nothing to force this upon you, quite the opposite in fact. __**You're**__ the one that wanted to come with __**me**__, might I remind you. And it's not like you have been exactly forthcoming yourself, __**Ms. Shaman**__. How do I know that the tobacco smoke wasn't a spell to let you talk inside my head so you could con me into thinking that we were mystically bonded by the power of friendship or some other such nonsense? How do I know that was even really Nahuel I heard just now and not just one of your conjurings?_

Right on cue, the clicks of Nahuel's smooth gait across the hardwood floor announced his arrival.

Beside me, Maya plastered on a fake smile and her hand slipped into mine. _Speak of the devil._

Posture perfect, he thanked Maya politely for the use of the phone and said his goodbyes to her before turning to me. "Renesmee, if you'd be so kind as to walk me out, I have an important matter which I need to discuss with you." He eyed our joined hands and frowned slightly but significantly as he quirked a polished brow. "In_ private._"

Rolling her eyes and tightening her grip, Maya's opinion was obvious even if I hadn't been able to hear the raging river of vulgarities churning through her mind.

At least there weren't any 'I told you so's floating around in there_._ Then it struck me all at once; his father, Bolivia, the Amazon.

Maya's hand clenched around mine. _¿Dónde?_

_We could get a parrot in Bolivia, right? La Paz is right on the edge of the Amazon. I'd prefer to go there on my own terms and, for that, I'll need your assistance._

_¿Es tiempo para que nos vayamos? _A triumphant grin of smug victory cracked her face and Nahuel's eyes narrowed in thinly veiled suspicion when we stood in unison, hands still tightly clasped.

_Sí, absolutamente._

_

* * *

_**Teaser**: _"What is it already? Ness? Billy? You're killing me here, Doc."_

"_No, Jacob. Actually, it's your results."_

_¿Es tiempo para que nos vayamos? – _Is it time for us to leave?

_Sí, absolutamente – _Yes, absolutely.

* * *

**miztrez, **I like the peppermint white chocolate mocha myself. I've been having withdrawals since Christmas :)

**OAT, **that was my fav part too ;)

**Lil, **thanks, chica. Hope you liked this one too :)

**Jenna, **angry angst is fun. To write anyway ;)

**WaK, **I really like how you analyze the way you interpret the story. It helps me more than you realize, so thanks :)

sonia**, **thanks so much for all the feedback :D there's a bunch of links in my profile, including one for a Swiss chalet, though the one I pictured was a different color and nestled on a mountain top, this was the closest I could find.

**my hubby, **lol XD I got a big kick out of your story, glad I could provide some incentive. I like to chug a Red Bull and blast classical music on my housekeeping days.

**Medicat, **LOL :D

**crackfic, **uniforms bite the big one, my condolences. And a good one to you too :D

**Jutey, **yeah, he has some severe anger management issues and elements of an inferiority complex. I wanted Jake's feelings about being one-upped by Edward to be somewhat analogous to Ness's insecurities over Bella :)

**Curious, **I picked this teaser based on your comments about last chapter ;)

**Courtney, **there was a lot revealed in this chap and it was on the long side. Hope it didn't disappoint ;)

**Kyzyl, **round and round it goes... ;)


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